


The Hallowed Halls of Hogwarts

by msperfectsheep



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 2P Hetalia, Age Regression/De-Aging, But You Didn't, CURSED CHILD IS NOT CANON, Gen, Hetalia Countries Using Human Names, Hogwarts First Year, JK you could've done so much better, and Fantasy, there are so many better HP fics than that out there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:01:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 54,785
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23940484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msperfectsheep/pseuds/msperfectsheep
Summary: With a unbelieving American, a nearly silent Canadian, a rowdy Australian, and a cheerful Brit, England finds his arms fuller than ever as the Professor of History of Magic at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. But to protect the hidden side of his world, he would endure anything to ensure its survival, even if it meant keeping a close eye on the Boy Who Lived, three of his former colonies, and a formerly magic-less sister.
Comments: 25
Kudos: 41





	1. I

_Throughout hist'ry, time, and space, f'r an inexplicable reason, th're has't at each moment been representatives of cities, states, provinces, nations, and empires. Nay two art the same, at each moment diff'ring in some way, nay matt'r how bawbling the diff'rence. Some hadst a diff'rent facial structureth. Some hadst diff'rent col'r'd hairs, 'r diff'rent dialects and accents. Some w're physically female, and some, physically male._

_But those gents w're not human by definition. Those gents w're did separate from the beings those gents w're madeth from by their m'rtality. As longeth as a representative hadst something to representeth, those gents wouldst continueth to liveth. But, if 't be true an area wast masterless 'r did destroy, the representative wouldst vade. T'wast their f'rm of death._

_In a way, t wast because those gents w're guarante'd to disappeareth one couldst argueth those gents w're human-but being immune to cannons, boiling oil, and arrows, those gents couldst easily beest mistaken f'r demons. Currently, only a few representatives has't ev'r been hath found, and few'r spoken to. Those gents may beest hiding 'mongst us, guiding us at our w'rst times, 'r those gents may beest the reasons f'r our suff'ring. All we knoweth is yond these art God's beings._  
  
-Excerpt from Mysterious and Inexplicable Madnesses, written by Unknown. Published, 1531

-0-

**_Author's note: References for naming and such are at the very bottom of each chapter and will vary for the character that appear per chapter. I hope you enjoy._ **

-0-

It was a unusually warm and sunny day in London, and England despised it. Usually, he'd welcome the sun with open arms and an uncharacteristically warm smile, but it wasn't the actual Sun who was visiting today. No, just her blinding rays which made it impossible to go outside without being blinded by something or feeling baked after just a few minutes out of the sun. 

Worst of all, he'd expected chilly weather today, and so, dressed accordingly. In his tweed suit, he was sweating and uncomfortable, wanting nothing more than to strip down to his boxers, but he was an Englishman and above that. 

So he'd suffer in silence, just like how he'd suffered through hot sweaty uniforms in Africa and Asia and Oceania. He had a reputation to uphold, and he would not let Liza's creation ruin his day. 

He walked as briskly as he could from his car to his office, dodging pedestrians and cars as easily as he dodged charging soldiers. Once he was welcomed by cool, air-conditioned air, his anger towards his old friend faded to mere irritation, and he forgave her for it. Majority of his people were probably overjoyed at the sight of her presence, anyways. 

Quick footsteps to the receptionist's desk, where he gave a gentle nod to the young yet efficient and dutiful boy named Dustin. He was signed in immediately, and given a smile. 

"Good morning, Mr. Kirkland!" England, perhaps accidentally, or perhaps not, glanced at the space above Dustin's head. There, floating the usual, were the numbers. 

Dustin Abel Morgan  
19  
27041972-11092001

England replied with the exact thing he always replied with on days like this, brushing off the numbers. He'd seen them since the first time he'd met the boy. "It's a pleasure to see you, Dustin."

By now, the phrases themselves had no real meaning between them, but instead, were an indicator of how England was feeling. Certain replies were used on days he knew he was going to have a headache and wished to be left alone as much as possible. Other replies indicated that he was confident, or sick, or annoyed. Dustin picked up on them quick enough, and now, it was easy to just lessen the stress of the day by indiscreetly telling the secretary how to handle things for the day. 

Excellent staff, and under England's watch, Dustin would be guaranteed a job under him as long as he wished. He was much more confident than many of England's own companions. 

Speaking of which, he'd need to contact Estonia about an internet problem. Funny things, computers were. Being able to store almost all of humanity's knowledge in a cube-shaped machine no bigger than an adult man's torso. 

He left Dustin to his work and stepped into his office, setting down his briefcase and relaxing into his custom-made chair. The beautiful, hand carved desk made by none other than Thomas Chippendale at which he sat dutifully filled up with the day's forms and papers, all of which would eventually leave the desk's surface at some point in the next month. 

Yet, as he unpacked the immense amount of paper from his briefcase, one of the papers caught his eye. Or rather, an envelope tucked between petitions made of thick, heavy parchment sealed with a red wax seal. 

Only a select few people he knew would use such a traditional form of an envelope-especially in an age when e-mails were becoming more and more common.

He put it aside to make sure it would not disappear from sight underneath the regular papers, and finished unpacking. He stared at the envelope, and it seemed to stare back, as if daring England to open it. 

He ignored its pull and got to work. If the sender had something truly urgent to say, they would call him. He would read it at lunch. 

And he held himself to it. Even as he snuck a few glances at the letter, he forced himself to push through the same boring papers he'd been going through ever since he was competent enough to read and make decisions. Same boring request after boring request. He skimmed them efficiently, eyes trained after centuries to recognize important words and random proper nonsense thrown in to maintain social etiquette.

Within the short hours of the morning, he blew through a decent enough stack before lunch. Neatly clipping together the papers, he put them away in his briefcase, closed and locked it. The letter seemed to be begging to be opened, pleading that its message was urgent. 

He gave in, and as he sent Dustin to make him tea, he gently opened the letter, careful not to destroy the wax seal. Call him silly, but he always saved them if he could afford to. 

Gently, he removed the paper. It was newly made, not old parchment you found in museums. He unfolded the pages previously sealed inside, and began to read the words written in emerald green ink.

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

**Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)**

**Dear Mr. Kirkland,**

**It has come to my attention recently that, according to my predecessors, you are a highly educated and talented wizard with extensive knowledge on both Muggle and Magical history. While usually I would exclude someone as busy as you from the matters of a school for adolescent children, I have news that may be worth your time.**

**As you may know, the Dark Lord He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has been terrorizing the wizarding world for years, and the only known survivor of his reign of terror is Harry Potter. This year, it has been determined he will be attending classes here at Hogwarts, and will be taught properly how to fight against You-Know-Who with all the knowledge and power the wizarding world has available.**

**It is because of this that I have decided to ask someone with as extensive experience and talent with magic, the muggle world from which Harry has been raised, and battle, that you not only teach at Hogwarts as the History of Magic teacher, but give Harry personal lessons on how to prepare for his final fight against his destined enemy.**

**Of course, you are not at all obligated to accept this offer, but it shall remain open as long as Harry attends Hogwarts. I assume that the recent deaths have not affected your body kindly and wish for both your health and Harry's education to be stellar.**

**I wish to hear from you soon.**

**Yours sincerely,**

**Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore**

**Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry**

He had to re-read the letter, as if it was written in Linear B. The letters simply did not click. Papers that suggested a war was coming? He was used to those. Letters that said someone close had died? More common than England ever wanted it to be. Heck, he knew that even young Dustin was to perish within the next ten years, untimely ripped from the surface of the Earth. But a man, the head of a school which wasn't even in his domain, but Scotland's, contacted him about teaching children when it was clear he was aware of England's status of a nation. 

He was asking a nation, the former head of the British Empire, to personally teach a boy who he had never met, only heard whispers of. 

Good heavens this was a lot to unpack. He gently turned over the paper, sure he'd seen writing on the back when he first extracted it from the letter. 

**P.S. If you accept, come and visit me by the 30th of July so we can get you properly set up.**

Today was the 27th. Goddammit. He hated nothing more than a small time limit, even if his mind was made up. It just so happened that when it wasn't, and this was one of those times, that he only became more frustrated. 

He wanted to burn the letter and watch it crumble into cinders, but he wouldn't. He just tucked it back inside the envelope and slid it into his briefcase.

He needed a good, proper lunch to think this over. 

He pulled out his Motorola mobile phone and dialed in a number he knew by heart. And knowing his obsession with punctuality, England suspected his call would be answered after one ring. 

"'Ello?"

It took two, but close enough.

"Hello, Ollie. Mind if you accompany me to lunch today?"

He heard a chuckle from the other end of the phone. "I'd love to! Fancy myself to bring anything? Tea, biscuits, scones?" 

England shook his head, even though Oliver was not there. Force of habit, he supposed. "No, that's quite alright. Just the usual spot."

"Alright, Sir Party Pooper. I'll be over in 10. Toodles!" The twat hung up before England could put another word in. As much as he despised his...other self? Twin? Whatever Oliver was, it didn't really matter in the grand scheme of things. He was still a homicidal maniac with a penchant for baking and home decor. He would never willingly spend time with someone like that, but since he, Ollie, Olivia, and Alice were physically linked, he didn't have much choice in the matter. Also, Oliver made a great Devil's Advocate when he tried.

He sighed and leaned back in his chair, glaring at the briefcase.

Couldn't he go one week without something important happening?

-0-

By the time England arrived, he could already see Oliver chatting with one of the workers. So far, it seemed he managed to pass himself off as sane, since the waitress was smiling gently and not out of fear. They were discussing something funny, since both laughed. 

England hopped out of his car and walked over to the outdoors table, sitting opposite of Oliver. 

"Oh Rose, this is my brother, Arthur. Artie, this is Rosemary. She stops by the bakery sometimes."

The bakery. 

England knew immediately what that meant. This pleasant-looking, middle aged woman had, at one point or another in her life, killed someone or stumbled upon a body and hid it. Well, so long as he had a good lunch without a side of murder, he wouldn't bother. With Ollie's influence in both the government and the underground, there would be no way to charge her without pulling some of his own strings, and by that point it'd be too large of a hassle to be worth it. 

"Lovely to meet you, miss." As usual, the numbers were there.  
  
Rosemary Marie Roberts  
42  
11011949-01072028

"The pleasure is all mine, sir. Would you like some time to look over our menu?"

He'd been to this restaurant since it's founding over a century ago, and very few changes had been made to the menu since then. No, he would have his regular. "I think we're alright. I would like a cup of black tea to start." 

Rosemary wrote it down. "And for you, Oliver?"

"I'll have an Arnold Palmer."

England inwardly winced. The drink was disgustingly sweet, American, and made of iced tea. It was the least British drink you could ask for, except say, a Coca-Cola. Then again, Ollie wasn't exactly the type to conform to British standards.

"I'll have the out for you in a moment!" Rosemary declared, shutting her notepad closed and walking off to inside the restaurant.

Both men's gazes followed her until she was out of sight before either engaged in conversation. Oliver playfully folded his hands across the table, smirking. 

"So, _Artie_ ," He said it so condescendingly that England was already pissed off. "What's happening? You'd never invite me to have lunch with you one on one unless you either want to chide me for my hobbies or engage in serious conversation about the dark and unsightly."

The way the words bubbled out of the freckled man's mouth was the way a child happily sung their ABC's. With spring, bounciness, and happiness. No detection of being unnerved, or worried, or confused. 

"It's the latter, mostly. How much are you involved in our wizarding community?"

He could tell Ollie was taken by surprise by the way his aquamarine-colored eyes rounded. But soon, surprise was replaced by a feline grin. "Not much, I suppose. I attended one of the schools for fun a few decades ago, but it was a bore. No poisoning! Unbelievable."

"Quite." England clipped. "Either way, you're here because you are the closest of us to my office. The head of Hogwarts has asked for me to teach at their school-"

He put up a finger to silence Ollie as soon as he saw his twin part his lips. "-Let me finish. He asked me to teach at his school because Harry Potter, the chosen hero to kill the Dark Lord, will be attending this fall. He knows exactly who I am, and how well versed I am with magic. He wants me to privately tutor the boy on how to win duels, learn advanced spells, battle tactics, et cetera. If I am to accept his offer, I will not be in contact with the muggle world for several months, hence why you're here. I trust you, Alice, and Olivia to run our country more than I'd trust Wales or Scotland or Northern Ireland."

He put his finger down, signalling to Ollie he was permitted to talk. 

"What you're saying is, to summarize, you want us to handle our share of government nonsense plus a fraction of yours while you go off to teach some child magic?"

Not exactly how he would put it, but in essence, it was correct. "Yes." 

Oliver laughed. "That's brilliant. You, a teacher! Oh my, I must tell Francois about this."

"No. You will not mention this to anyone. You and I know that none of France can keep their bloody mou-"

"Language." Oliver held out his portable swear jar.

England glared, yet dropped a coin in. "-Mouths shut. I do not want to barraged with more work than usual, and trust me, telling any other nation will make my nightmares a reality. I just need to teach without distractions or interruptions."

Oliver stared at him, contemplative. He was silent for a long while, something that usually wouldn't bother England unless it was America, Prussia, Denmark, Poland, Italy...actually he'd by bothered if a lot of his companions were silent. But with Ollie, it was especially unnerving.

"I'll do it. Not sure about Ally, but I know Vee would accept as well." 

England exhaled. "I cannot thank you enough Ollie. I'll pay you back somehow."

He instantly regretted his words as Oliver's face took a much more sinister light. 

"Oh, I know. The only payment I'll accept is an afternoon of you and I trying out my cupcake recipes. I can't get the cyanide ratio quite right."

England's stomach did somersaults at that thought, but he pushed it down. If you ignored the fact you were being poisoned, Ollie's cupcakes were excellent, just also sweet enough to make America sick.

As if perfectly timed, Rosemary came out with their drinks. England drank his tea much quicker than he would've preferred, but he had work to finish. "Ollie, lovely talking to you as always. I'll call you and the girls tonight." He paid for his tea, waved goodbye, and drove away. 

Oh, the amount of things he would need to get done in three day's time. 

-0-

The day seemed to whiz by as he pushed through his stacks of boring papers with renewed vigor. Starting tomorrow, he would have no government duties for a year or so, just teaching. 

Oh, the things he would have to brush up on. Teaching history of magic wouldn't be incredibly difficult, he'd just need to read a few books to remember everything. Then, he'd also have to gauge how familiar the students were with muggle history, because a lot of their meddling affected him and his country directly and vice versa. Finally, he'd have to familiarize himself with modern wizard habits, slang, and such. Whether the term "Aurei sanguinis" was still in use. That sort of things. 

Hours slipped by as rain slipped off of window panes. He didn't notice the sun had set until he signed the last paper and tore his eyes away from the desk. Blimey, it was later than he usually stayed, and Ollie was probably waiting for his call. He packed up everything in a rush, locked his office, and said goodbye to the guard. Dustin was nowhere to be found, but that was reasonable he was only asked to work the standard hours of 9-5. 

He still couldn't believe he would be going back to the wizarding world. It was like he was stepping back in time, but he didn't have to worry about mentioning things like World War 2 and accidentally causing a ripple in time. 

...Or maybe it would. Last he checked, the magic community rarely ever mixed itself with the muggle world. 

He would have to change that. Being isolationist was never a good tactic. Because, in a battle, a machine gun would be a better weapon than a wand. Yes, and pens were better than quills. He'd have to introduce them to the best of both worlds, fountain pens. 

He really did love a good fountain pen.

His mind wandered off, thinking about the other useful and harmless things he could introduce to the Wizarding World(France so far had the highest achievement of introducing toilets to them), and England was sure to beat those bloody frogs one way or another. 

He pulled into his garage, exited the car, and carried his briefcase inside his house.

As soon as he walked in, he knew someone was already there. The lights were on, and he could hear laughter from the parlour room. He was mildly cautious until he heard Ollie's unique laugh. 

Instead of waiting, he came to England. Lovely. And then, assuming the masculine voice was Ollie's, the women were Olivia and Alice. He removed his shoes, and hat, put his unused coat on the rack, and walked into the parlous room. 

"I thought I changed the lock."

Ollie batted his eyelashes innocently. "And I thought you knew by now that a little lock can't stop me."

England rolled his eyes. "Lovely to see you, Alice, Olivia."

Alice gave a curt, silent nod, eyes trained on a book. Olivia stood and gave England a hug, and knowing that he couldn't say no or else he would be forced to deal with two angry blue-eyed siblings, he hugged her back. "Ollie told us everything! That sounds absolutely amazing, going to a magic school! Coco said that she'd been there once before, but..." 

Her pigtails seemed to droop. "I'll never be able to go, right? You and Ally are the magical ones." 

That was true. While all four of them could see magical creatures, Ollie and Olivia were utterly useless at magic. He supposed that he and Alice were the representatives of the magical half of England, while Ollie and Olivia were the representatives of the criminal half of England. 

"Nonsense." Alice spoke without tearing her eyes away from the book. "Muggles are still allowed in." 

That was news to England. "Are you sure?"

"Of course. The first wizards were muggles who learned magic. What about muggle-borns? There's nothing about bloodlines that makes it exclusive. They just choose to only reveal how to get there to folk with the capability for magic in their veins." 

"Then there's nothing stopping us from visiting you during Christmas, right?" Ollie chirped. 

Olivia's eyes lit up, like how Hong Kong's used to when England allowed him to choose what tea they drank at tea-time. It was always Chinese style tea, but it was also always well made. If he didn't know better, he would've said that Olivia was a teenager, not physically 22. 

"I wasn't planning on spending time at Hogwarts during Christmas." was what he planned to see before he saw Olivia's face. Goodness gracious, did she know how to manipulate him. 

"I look forward to seeing you all there." He gave in. It was just one Christmas. He'd spent plenty in much worse places than a magical castle. 

"I will be going between the two regularly to report to both ends what's going on." Alice snapped her book shut and looked up. "We cannot trust as unreliable of a system as owls, and technology doesn't work in Hogwarts. Therefore, I will be going back and forth myself. I can do my added share of paperwork on the train." 

It sounded good to him. "Perfect. Now, to establish a cover story-"

"I have one!" Olivia jumped. "How about we say you'll become really sick?"

Ollie shook his head. "Don't be foolish. They'll check on him if we say that."

Olivia frowned. She clearly didn't like having her ideas put down like that, but it was true. Being sick wasn't that good of a cover. But her eyes lit up once again. "Okay, but then how about this? We say that he's off on a time-travel adventure. He's done those once or twice before." 

The three of them considered it. "Its actually not a bad idea. Most nations don't want to fuck-"

"Language!" The blue-eyed twins chorused. England begrudgingly dropped a coin in each of their jars before continuing. "-with magic, and those who do practice it are generally not nosy. I trust Norway and Romania with not snooping."

"But, it wouldn't be a bad idea to make sure that even they are fooled." Alice suggested. "I say we open a small portal to the far past, step in temporarily, and jump back immediately. That leaves the proper magical residue to check out with the story." 

Oliver hopped to his feet, leaving Alice the only one left sitting "I say we do it then! But what would Artie be looking for?" 

A silence befell the group as they thought. 

"A teapot." Olivia said simply. 

The three of them gave her a weird look, forcing her to elaborate. 

"You know how obsessive Artie is about his tea. He spent 3 weeks searching for a certain china plate. We could say that he wanted to get a past teapot of his that was destroyed or something."

"It's perfect." England agreed. "Come, let me make us dinner. We can eat, then do the spell." 

"No, I'm going to handle cooking tonight." Ollie intervened. "You've had a busy day. Vee, dear, mind joining me?"

"Of course not!" She followed him out to the kitchen. Arthur gave up and sat down beside Alice with a heavy sigh. 

"They're sometimes more infuriating than Patricia." 

She side-eyed him, but didn't decide to comment on his opinion. Instead, she lowered her voice. "Oliver and I can easily handle your workload. You're the figurehead England, and so you easily do more work in a day than we do in a week. We can handle having a year of extra work."

"You forgot to say Olivia."

She smiled a bit. "No, I didn't. Listen, you're going to be teaching. But even still, Harry Potter may not trust you completely. Researching him, his family seems to be at least psychologically abusive. Trust issues breed from abuse, especially towards adults. So, I've decided to introduce a few fail-safes to you."

"Please, do elaborate." 

Flipping through the pages of her book, she found a neatly folded piece of paper. On it were four names written in her beautiful cursive. 

"I'm saying we plant other nations as his friends. Ones we can trust and that are easily likable, plus ones that account for every Hogwarts house, since its unknown which one Harry will end up in. The first is, as you may have guessed, Olivia. She's a Hufflepuff by nature, fiercely loyal, sweet, and charming."

England found himself to be shaking his head. "No. She has no magic. She would never even be accepted."

"I thought you would say that, which is again, why I researched." She pushed up her glasses. "With the help of certain magical objects, one can transfer their magic inside of it and allow those without magic to use theirs. Since I will not be needing much magic other than to travel between Hogwarts and King's Cross, Olivia will be using mine. It may even be that once she starts using magic, that her body learns to create its own."

For how energetic she was, Olivia was also incredibly amiable. And with no need for killing children, she'd be no threat. "Okay. Who're the other three?"

"Amelia Jones, for Ravenclaw."

Arthur gaped. "You're suggesting America should be in Ravenclaw?"

"Yes. You've seen her during pressure-filled moments. She's incredibly smart when it comes to numbers, word-play, and decoding. Why I chose her instead of someone like Japan is because she too is incredibly friendly."

He huffed. "Alright. Who's the Slytherin?"

"I'm unsure. I was going to also suggest that Amelia could take the spot of Slytherin, since America is incredibly ambitious."

"Manifest Destiny, I remember." England grumbled. "That makes more sense as well." 

"Alright. Then I have another we could put in Ravenclaw. Matthew Williams. For the figurehead of Canada, he is barely noticed as a nation. James Williams steals the spotlight from him in most areas, except during world meetings in which Matthew is forced to go due to his status as a figurehead."

"Matthew seems perfect for Ravenclaw. No argument there." 

She smiled softly. "I'm glad. Finally, our Gryfindor. Jett Papalya." Her eyes immediately focused on him to watch his reaction. 

He didn't see the former colony as much as he used to, but that was mostly because of conflicting time-zones, weather, ideals, and in general, busyness. But, with the traits he had as a child, being even more bullheaded and stupid than Alfred, there was no doubt he was a model Gryfindor. 

"All of them sound perfect to me, except for the fact only Olivia and Matthew have ways of reasonably hiding for a year. Jett and Amelia are so loud and rambunctious that the world would know the second they disappeared."

Alice's smile dropped into a frown. "We could not reasonably say you would ask Jett to help you look for a priceless teapot."

"Yes."

She sighed. "I don't have anything that comes to mind for now. You?"

He shook his head. "Nothing. But don't worry about it. We have a few days."

She closed her eyes and leaned her head on his shoulder, something she always did when she was bored, tired, or annoyed. England stood still, simply rubbing her back. "Don't stress yourself out about it. Worst case, we say its a time-travel scavenger hunt." 

She laughed at that. 

-0-

Dinner was herb-roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, peas, and boiled carrots, all assembled and cooked in a dutch oven. Olivia and Ollie looked extremely proud of themselves, and when England took a bite after saying grace, he was pleasantly surprised from the lack of sugar. 

The whole affair was relatively quiet, with a few words exchanged here or there but nothing important. Eating felt less like a communal event and more like a necessity at the moment, everyone much too eager about what to do after to focus on the present. Alice volunteered to clean up, leaving England with the task of explaining her plan to Olivia. 

"Olivia, Alice and I talked while you were helping with dinner."

She tilted her head, like a confused puppy. "And?"

"Would you like to attend Hogwarts disguised as a student?"

There was no possible way to possible describe the way her face looked in words, but, if you close your eyes and imagine, it was a face of pure, utter, elation mixed with shock and confusion. She stood, sat down, stood again, and frustratedly sat back down. 

"I-I-Yes! But..." She was at an utter loss for words. "How?"

Ollie's eyes kept switching between his twin and his brother, unsure of who to focus on. 

"There are magical objects that allow a Wizard or Witch to transfer their magic inside of it. If a Muggle were to use it, they would have access to the magic, and possibly could develop a way of creating their own magic. Alice volunteered to let you use her magic."

Alice was speechless, but her eyes said it all. They filled with tears, and without a second thought, she got up and hugged her sister, voice thick with emotion. 

"Thank you, Ally. Thank you, so, so much." She buried her face into Alice's shoulder laughing and crying simultaneously."

Alice patted her on the back. "It's my pleasure, Oliv-I mean, Vee."

Oliver was beaming. "Just for that, you get your swear money back from today." He fished the two coins out from the jar and handed it to England, who tucked them safely in his pocket. 

"Thank you. While I don't particularly care for magic, it's obvious that Vee does." 

Arthur let a gentle smile emerge on his face. "I guess we'll need a tunc quaestum spell tonight as well. I don't think I've seen her look 12 since the 100 year's war."

"I'm so excited!" Olivia finally removed herself from Alice. "I get to do something important." 

"Yes, you do. And you've already got the young girl act nailed down. All we need now is the time spell, to de-age you, and make a fake profile in case of background checks. For now, you'll be my niece. Ollie is your father-"

"That just feels wrong of you to say." Olivia chuckled. 

Ollie was smiling with her. "Quite." 

England rolled his eyes. "Your mother walked out of Oliver for being an idiot before you were old enough to remember, and Ollie refuses to talk about her sometimes pretending to forget she even exists. You can make up everything else, just make sure its sound and you memorize it so you don't slip up."

Alice walked in from the kitchen, done with the dishes. "It sounds good enough. Are you ready to start with the spells?" She asked England. 

"Ready as ever. Let's do this quickly. I have a lot more to get to in preparation." 

The four of the walked down to the basement, and meticulously, used chalk to draw the lines needed to form a portal. Alice and England grabbed each other's hands and began to chant the spell they memorized long ago, Olivia and Ollie standing far away enough to view without any chance of getting hurt. As energy within themselves was converted into magical energy, the air began to buzz. The floor glowed with a pale blue light emitting where the chalk once was, and slowly, the blue spread from the edge of the circle inwards, enveloping the ground beneath their feet. 

As soon as the circle was completely filled in by the blue light, there was a pop, and the two of them and the circle were gone. And just like after every time spell, the air smelled with honey candies. 

"Wonder where they went." Ollie started picking supplies while staying clear of the place the summon circle was once located. 

Olivia had a dreamy look on her face. "I'll be able to do that soon!"

"Calm down, poppet, they have centuries more experience than you. I don't doubt you will be able to master magic, just not their level magic."

"But I can probably still learn it. You heard Artie! He said that I may even develop my own magic stores."

"...He did indeed." 

The air began to grow warm and Ollie immediately pressed himself against the wall, Olivia mimicking his movements. The blue circle formed outwards, created the full circle, and popped. 

England and Alice were laughing, covered in mud. 

"How'd it go?" 

"Hopped back to when we had custody over New Zealand. Zack was playing outside and the little bugger saw us, threw mud pies, and ran off calling for Australia." England laughed. "I forgot how bratty they were when they were colonies."

"Yes, especially Zack. I'm glad he mellowed out." Alice wiped her glasses. "While we wash off, how about you two begin making Vee's backstory and profile? It's been years since we've performed a tunc quaestum spell, so we'll need a bit to re-read how exactly to perform it."

Olivia grabbed Ollie's arm before he could react. "On it!" She dragged him behind her, practically running upstairs. Alice and England packed up their magic supplies before heading up, bee-lining for the water-closets to get rid of the mud. Time passed as they changed into different clothes and looked through England's many books on magic, trying to figure out how to properly de-age a nation. They'd done it before, but not in at least a few centuries. 

Meanwhile, downstairs, Ollie and Olivia were having a blast filling out her fake identity, making father-daughter slang, and fake memories. 

And suddenly, out of nowhere, Alice said, "I've got it!"

"You've got what?" 

"How we can get the other nations to disappear for a year without bring suspicion."

England blinked. "How?"

"It was so simple." Alice shook her head, incredulous. "We remove the world's memories of them."

-0-

_**I should've spent the time making this on any of my on-going fics, but my brain decided, "One more can't hurt" and this was born. Now, to first explain things that may have been confusing:** _

_**\- Arthur=England. Since he is the figurehead of England's reps, he mentally would refer to himself as that. Just like how you refer to yourself as "Me" when everyone else knows you by your name.** _

_**\- When a character says a country and then use They/Them, its not because the country is non-binary, but because they are referring to all of the countries representatives. If they've talking about a specific country, they use their human alias** _

_**\- The Englands have nicknames for each other, although Alice and Arthur hardly ever use them. Arthur/England is Artie, Alice is Ally, Oliver is Ollie, and Olivia is Vee.** _

_**-Why does Dumbledore not say "Voldemort" in his letter outright? Imagine you're the headmaster of a school as prestigious as Hogwarts and you're writing a letter to an immortal being you've never met. Even for Dumbledore, outright saying "Voldemort" is risky.** _

_**-If you have any other points you think I should explain, please leave a comment/review! This story will most likely not be updating sooner than 3 weeks from now unless you guys tell me that you want an update quicker. So please, send me even the simplest of reviews. I read every single one of them(even if the chapter is months or even years old)**_

_**-And if you liked it, maybe share. Give a kudos. I'll never know what you all want unless you tell me.**_

_**Have a lovely day, and here's to hoping the fic continues on!  
  
** _

Msperfectsheep  
  
 _P.S. Beta readers needed! Contact me on discord for more info. My username is Fluff#0929._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Reference: 
> 
> Mains:  
> Amelia Elizabeth Jones: Nyo!America  
> Arthur Kirkland: England  
> Jacob Alexander "Jett" Papalya: Australia  
> Matthew Jean Williams: Canada  
> Olivia "Vee" Kirkland: 2p!Nyo!England
> 
> Other(Varies per chapter):  
> Liza: The Sun(Hey, Hima personified Winter and a boat, the Sun is completely valid)  
> Dustin Morgan: Young receptionist at England's current workplace  
> Oliver "Ollie" Kirkland: 2p!England  
> Alice "Ally" Kirkland: Nyo!England  
> Rosemary Roberts: Ollie's friend from The Bakery  
> Francois Bonnefoy: 2p!France  
> Coco: Flying Chocolate Bunny  
> Patricia O'Connell: Ireland  
> James Williams: 2p!Canada  
> Zack Johnson: New Zealand


	2. II

_The first of these beings yond wast discov'r'd wast a sir who called himself Rome. Acc'rding to ancient texts, the being wast tall, with tann'd skin the col'r of bronze, dark, curl'd locks of thick hair, and deep brown eyes yond radiat'd pow'r. That gent w're his armeth'r daily, and at each moment he carried his sw'rd on his p'rson. Aye, this being wast one to praise, to gl'rify, to loveth. The fruit of the Roman Empire's lab'r, a being yond hath shown their strength in who is't that gent wast._

_But, as didst state earli'r, these beings lasteth only as longeth as those gents has't something to representeth. As Rome sack’d from all areas, and as the empire crumbl'd, the most wondrous and resp'ctable, sir who called himself Rome didst vanish. All yond didst remain wast the East'rn Roman Empire, to which Rome bar'ly couldst calleth that gent owneth people. T'wast then yond that gent madeth the decision yond seal'd his fate, and quite possibly, the fate of the Byzantines._

_That gent didst maketh two sons to representeth the 'riginal homeland, and with the lasteth years that gent hadst as a f'rm'r empire, that gent didst teachest the young beings ev'rything that gent couldst about his culture. And finally, quietly in the night, the Roman Empire p'rished, leaving his two sons defenseless and didst surround by a w'rld of enemies._

_Wast humankind responsible f'r this disast'r, 'r wast it Rome who wast responsible f'r the falleth?_

-Excerpt from Mysterious and Inexplicable Madnesses, written by Unknown. Published, 1531

-0-

"We remove the world's memories of them."

England stared at his sister for a long while, scrutinizing everything she was wearing, from the plain blue dress tied at the waist with a belt to the silver earrings hanging from her lobes.

"Are you mad, or did I just hear you incorrectly?"

Her eyebrows furrowed, and her lips turned downwards. "I said, we should remove the nation's memories of Amelia, Jett, and Matthew."

It just did not make sense for those words to be coming out of Alice's mouth. Alfred, sure. That was an Alfred-level comment. But not Alice. Smart, practical, rational Alice.

"You don't think it's a good idea, do you?" Her confused expression turned to one more annoyed. "Then why don’t you suggest something?"

"Because I don't have any good ideas! If I… Alright. It's okay. We can work with this, but maybe... just alter a few things?"

Alice crossed her arms defensively. "Like what?"

England ushered her over to his desk, where he sat down and brought out a fresh sheet of paper and a pen.

"You and I each have, let's say, 500 magic points each. Erasing one person from the memory of another is around, what? 1 magic point? Now, let's say you're removing one person from the memories of 10 people. It's ten points. So, counting just figureheads alone, that's around 200 or so. Then, accounting for the usual 3 other representatives that most countries have, that is, give or take around 800 magic points for one country. Just to remove someone like Jett from the world's memory would cost us nearly all of our magic combined! But then there's still Amelia, who is maybe even more well known than Jett. Together, they exceed the amount of magic we have. It's insane to even think about it."

"Then what do you suppose we do about it?"

England hated himself for what his mind suggested to him as a reply, and before he knew it, the words were coming out of his mouth. "Have you watched the Disney movie ‘Frozen’?"

"Yes...?"

"Remember at the beginning, when the trolls were looking through Anna's memories? He changed the memories but didn't erase them, which is incredibly more efficient. Instead of erasing a figurehead from memory, you make another one of the reps seem like a figurehead. So, in Jett's case, I'd make Jane the figurehead. It would still be utterly exhausting, but we would at least be able to pull it off."

It was Alice's turn to be silent and when she finally spoke, he saw her eyes glowing with renewed vigor. "Let's do it."

She pulled up a chair, and together on the paper, they determined how they would change the memories. Generally, in terms of importance, the second most significant representative after the figurehead of the country was their counterpart of the same sex. This was then followed by the sibling, male or female, who shared the eye color of the figurehead. The least important was the one who neither shared gender nor physical similarities with the figurehead.

In Jett's case, they were going to make Jane, his twin who shared many of his physical similarities, the one who replaced him in everyone's memories. She still had the same rambunctious nature and personality, so if Jane said, "Fancy a 10 kilometer swim?" no one would question it.

For Amelia, while she was not as important as a figurehead, she was still very well known. So, in her case, they would have to talk to Ashlyn about possibly acting like Amelia. Either that, or they would have to temporarily convince Ashlyn that she had Amelia's personality, making it so that although Amelia still maintained her position, she would be just as well known as Ashlyn, and vice versa. The loud, "HEY GUYS, WHO WANTS TO GET SMASHED?" would now be coming from Ashlyn's mouth, at least in everyone's memories.

Lastly, they had nothing they needed to do with Matthew. James was much more well known, making him a rarity among nations, as the most known and yet not the figurehead. Unfortunate for Matthew, but it would waste no magic and they were fine with that.

As they worked, it seemed their minds were the same. One suggested an idea, and the other agreed. Alice did the writing, England did the reading. Magic spells were like recipes. You can mess them up, but if you follow the instructions, you're allowed to tweak things for personal preference. Like changing 200 people's memories, instead of just one.

Not tonight, of course. They had to get the countries' consent, and they were already pretty drained from the time spell. They finished their calculations rather quickly, and without a second thought, as if their minds were still linked, both England and Alice got out of their chairs and walked downstairs. At the dining table, Ollie and Olivia were laughing so hard their faces were pink.

"I take it that your backstory is going well, Olivia?" England quipped, sitting in his usual seat at the head of the table. Alice joined him on his left, watching politely.

His sister bobbed her head. "I'm having a ball. Ollie is barking mad as a father, but it sure does allow for fun things to be made up! Like this:"

She held up the paper and cleared her throat. "When I was little, I used to chew on the television remotes. When my dad took them away, I found that my love of the taste came not from the remotes, but the batteries inside. To this day, we have almost nothing that’s within reaching distance if it’s powered with batteries, and the things that are have back panels that are duct-taped shut."

Alice golf-clapped. "It sounds realistic. Do you have more of that?"

"Oh yeah, tons of it. We've gone through and made plenty of obscure little details that go on throughout my life. I mean, at age four, we only have two memories, but we made more as I grew up. We put together a morning schedule that "I've always followed", some favorite bands and movies, -which I'll be watching and listening to-, and a fashion style. My backstory is pretty simple because, let's face it, you don't usually just march up to someone and ask for their whole life story. And even if you did, they usually can only come up with a few unimportant and uninteresting details."

"Excellent job." England nodded along. "You can start memorizing it tomorrow while we travel to meet with Jett, Amelia, and Matthew. Since I'm supposed to be in the past, I will be going undercover, which means flying commercial. I'll call from a payphone once I reach the airport and ask for the status of negotiation. Whether the negotiation succeeds or fails determines my next move."

The other three shared a look. "Does that mean...?" Ollie prompted, waiting for England to answer.

"Yes, I'll be wearing a disguise, and no, it won't be as bad as the Italian one back during the war." His face flushed red as he remembered his horrible attempt to blend in back then. His siblings all sighed in relief.

"Good. We'll bring in a human make-up artist to cover your brows, since they're your biggest identifier. And maybe clean up your hair in general. You are going to be a professor, after all." Ollie stood up and walked around England while talking, like an appraiser talking about an item. 

"My eyebrows are perfectly fine!"

All of them laughed. "And you suppose our teeth are too?" Alice smirked.

"Just shut up. Ollie, call your stylist if you'd like. I'm not going to sleep tonight anyway." He huffed. "I'll put on some tea for anyone else who'll stay up with me. Otherwise, you all know where your rooms are."

With that, Ollie went off to call his stylist, Olivia retired to her room to "study my new identity", and Alice stayed up with England to keep him company, and work through a few more papers she hadn't gotten done that day. The house fell silent, the only constant sound is the rocking of England's chair as he studied the magical formula and the ticking of England's many antique clocks.

The night hours slipped by as easily as water ran down a glass pane, and the only reason England kept track of the time was the constant chimes he got each hour from the clocks. Alice eventually had succumbed to sleep sometime between two and three, leaving England to simmer in the silence alone.

He hoped that this would be worth it.

-0-

The next morning was a blur of hair, false teeth, and Ollie's signature bubblegum pink and baby blue. As soon as the sun was up, Ollie's stylist, a man named Joel, and his assistant, Samantha, were at the door knocking. When England went to answer, he was practically assaulted by the duo, dragged into a chair and forced to sit still. England didn't even have a chance to speak as his teeth were shoved into some sort of disgusting-tasting substance needed to make his false teeth.

Parts of the makeover were worse than physical torture, such as the plucking of his eyebrows. He scowled or yelped at every single hair being pulled out, and seeing Ollie's sadistic smile only made him want to strangle his brother more.

"Say ‘Cheese’!" He chirped, holding up a camera. England scowled deeper in return, just to annoy him as revenge. He probably was going to regret it when he ate the cupcakes later, but at the moment it was worth it just to temporarily see that creepy smile falter.

Joel tutted his tongue and stepped back to inspect England. "There is something wrong with this. He is supposed to look cool. Suave. Instead he looks like a middle-aged accountant. Samantha, what do you recommend?"

England rolled his eyes and tried not to focus on the numbers, but they were the only interesting thing in the room.

Joel Ryan Kensington  
35  
03061956-18042032

Samantha May Bremmings  
23  
24091968-17081994

He felt a pang of pity towards Samantha. So young...

England blinked out of his stupor, realizing the stylists had stopped talking. "Pardon me, what did you say?"

Samantha crossed her tanned arms across her chest. "How do you feel about dyeing your hair?"

"Absolutely not."

She rolled her eyes, and instantly the pity was gone. "Fine. I think that a little bit more off the sides will make him look presentable, Joel."

"I agree. Plus, perhaps a little bit less brow as well."

Ollie snickered. "That sounds amazing. Go for it!"

England would make sure that Ollie would have hell to pay after this.

-0-

When he was handed the mirror, he nearly dropped it. His hair was soft and brushed, sitting on his head fashionably in a way a 20-year-old would style it. His notoriously-thick eyebrows were the thinnest he'd ever seen, but not to the point where they looked bad. Just to him, seeing such a stark difference…

It was uncanny.

And then there were his teeth. With the help of some custom-made dentures of sorts that slipped right over his teeth, they looked pretty. He ran his fingers across his face, possibly subconsciously, to make sure that it was his.

England suddenly had the urge to stand up and shout, " _TAKE THAT, FRANCIS!_ ", but fought it. He was a gentleman, and that was an ungentlemanly thing to do. He would just talk behind his back instead.

"Well? What do you think, Artie?" Ollie blinked innocently.

"I like it." He said evenly, trying not to give off too much of his true feelings. That would only encourage Ollie to assault him with more surprise makeovers.

"Then it's perfect! Thank you again, Joel, for being a miracle worker."

Joel smiled. "It is my pleasure to help people like Arthur. Sometimes, you just have to help those fashionably-challenged."

England scoffed internally and released himself from the cage of protective sheets and styling tools, more than ready to begin the day by packing. Before Joel and Samantha's visit, he'd scheduled a flight to America, where Alice would be meeting up with Amelia in LA. If Amelia accepted the offer, he would meet with them briefly before travelling with Amelia to Ottawa where, yet again, Alice would meet up with a nation, this time it being Matthew Williams, the figurehead of Canada. But, if it failed, England would simply just fly to Ottawa without ever seeing Amelia. The process would repeat until after Alice had spoken to Jett Papalya, the figurehead of Australia, and then after they would see how many successes and losses they had.

He left Ollie to figure out payment and walked upstairs to his bedroom, pulling out his suitcase and loading it with an extra suit, pyjamas, boxers, a comfy pair of casual sweatpants, an old t-shirt that he was pretty sure was from his punk phase, and all of his hygiene products. Into his briefcase went the Hogwarts letter, a few books, a pen, and some of the documents he would've had time to go through if not for yesterday's events.

A light amount to travel with, plus a bundle of each countries' currency tucked safely inside a pair of socks in his checked-bag which would make the trip easier. All he needed to do now was grab his newest passport, call a cab, and get on the plane as soon as possible. Alice had left just before his make-over and was already flying over the Atlantic, giving her plenty of time to adjust to the timezone and talk to Amelia before England landed.

There was a knock at his door. "Hey Artie, mind if I come in?"

"No, not at all."

Olivia peeped her head in. "Are you doing alright? Your flight leaves pretty soon, and since you're going incognito, you need to worry about waiting in line to get through security." For someone who considered shaking the vending machine to be "a perfectly acceptable way of obtaining pop", she was oddly worried about going through certain procedures legally.

"I'm fine. I'm almost ready anyway." He snapped his suitcase shut to emphasize his point. "Although, would you mind making me a sandwich to take on the go? I haven't eaten since yesterday.”

She sighed, and instead of running off to the kitchen like she usually would, she walked inside his room and sat on the side of his bed. "I'm nervous."

"About what?" He looked in the mirror, putting on a new tie.

"I- What if I slip up and reveal who I really am, or how old we are? Or what if Coco calls us England in front of the students? I know Mintie wouldn't, but Coco forgets a lot of stuff. Or, what if I get hurt and heal faster than anyone should be able to? I don't want to mess this up."

He chuckled a bit. "Olivia, who was it that wanted to learn magic more than anyone?"

"Me?"

"And who spent hours last night coming up with a fake identity that she's surely memorized by now?"

"Me."

"And tell me, who was there to keep me from falling apart in front of the colonies when America became independent?"

"Ally and I."

"Alice may have been the rational one in the situation, but you were the one I spent hours talking to and crying on the shoulder on. Olivia, you are one of the strongest nations I know. You have character. And when you set your mind to it, you can and will get anything you want. Keep my words in mind anytime you feel doubt, and you'll be fine."

Her blue eyes twinkled the way America's used to when England gave him a scone with jam. "You always know exactly what to say. You'll be a fantastic teacher."

"I do hope so. I've got a few magical history books to read on the plane that'll hopefully refresh my mind quite a bit."

Olivia got off the bed and hugged him too tight for comfort. "I'm sure your lessons will be stunning. Now, I'll go make that sandwich." She released him and bounded down the stairs, pigtails bobbing. He watched her leave before checking his watch. 10 minutes until he had to leave.

He checked all his luggage to make sure he forgot nothing, brushed his hair (it felt so silky), and shaved. His tie was tightened, shoes were laced, and buttons buttoned up. By that point he was simply trying to think of things to do just to pass the ten minutes he had left, so he wouldn't have to say goodbye to Ollie and Olivia too early and then spend a few minutes in awkward silence before properly departing.

He knew he was forgetting something, but couldn't remember what. It couldn't be his books, nor his clothes. He had his passport, and his money, and his hygiene products.

So what was missing?

He nearly unpacked everything just to recount when the answer hit him in the head like New Zealand's mud pie.

His wand. He'd need it to prove to Amelia (at least) that magic was real. While Allan and Ashlyn actively believed in both aliens and magic, Alfred and Amelia couldn't be convinced, not by Uni. He threw open his drawers, searching for the relic he hadn't used in so long.

Wands were, more or less, for show. A talented witch or wizard would have no trouble doing wandless magic, since a wand is only something one should use to channel their already existing magic. But, to Amelia, using a wand would be proof magic exists in the first place, and as a teacher at a school that was well-known for believing wandless magic was a high-level craft, he would need to use it in front of staff and students.

He could feel time suddenly ticking down while his searching grew more frantic, and as Amelia called, "Artie, the cab is here!", his heart nearly stopped. He had no more time to look, but he needed his wand. A replacement would never work as well as his original either.

Where did he last put it? Think. He had to think. The last time he must've used it was when he still had colonies and was actively raising them, so early 1800's? He l had the time to practice magic, so it couldn't be much later than that. Back then, he was usually storing things in-

"Artie, did you hear me? You're going to be late!"

The basement. He would've stored it out of the colonies' reach in his magic stores. He grabbed his suitcase, briefcase, and passport and rushed down the stairs to the basement, tearing through his old belongings searching for the blasted thing. In less than a minute, he had it, wrapped in old cloth. He left the mess alone and rushed back up the stairs, to where Ollie and Olivia were waiting at the front door patiently.

"You're ready?" Olivia asked.

He nodded. "I'm ready."

She handed him his sandwich. "Don't worry, I didn't let Ollie touch it. Have a lovely flight." She hugged him.

"I heard that." Ollie grinned. "I'll be looking forward to our tasting session." He hugged England as well.

"Thanks, you two. Goodbye!" He strode out the front door and to the cab, excited for what the next few days would entail.

-0-

He remembered why he never flew economy.

His back hurt more than when Australia used to jump on him for "surprise hugs", his legs were stiffer than boards, and the air was more stale than the bag of crackers he had forgotten about and left in his desk for 10 years.

To top it all off, there was a kid behind him kicking his seat. No more in his life had he wanted to strangle an innocent child, and he knew that if Ollie were in his position instead, the kid would already be dead. But he was a gentleman. He would tough it out, and eventually, the kid would fall asleep.

He leaned down and brought out his book on magical history and thumbed through it. Ancient Mages, The Magic of the Classical Era, Magic of the Eastern Roman Empire, Ancient Asian Magical Practices, Ancient Magician Tribes of Sub-Saharan Africa, Medieval Magic...

The Founding of Hogwarts, the first school to teach a standardized practice of magic. Hogwarts was formed when he was no more than a babe, only 53 years old. He didn't remember much about that time, and was too young to have properly met the founders before they passed. He flipped through the pages, soaking up what he had recorded over the years in the margins of the pages and the passages written by several magical historians.

Things were simpler back then, but unlike modern day the wizards of the 10th century were ahead of the muggles technology wise. They kept knowledge of Roman inventions such as plumbing, and had a systematic way of writing and reading, which was necessary for spells. Sadly, just as what had happened with the muggle world, they regressed and lost the majority of the old practices, deemed them to be "Dark Arts" and "Shadow Magic" due to the lack of understanding on how to control it.

Often times, subjects that were considered cursed or dangerous were as simple or "safe" as transfiguration, but without proper instructions on how to perform a spell, the wizards stupid enough not to search for the missing steps often suffered from magical recoils. Boils, disfigured bodies, loss of magical ability, you name it. So the arts became associated, naturally, with the uncouth, dangerous, and evil parts of magic society, as anything with the name "Dark" or "Shadow" would eventually. A shame, but it was to be expected.

He flipped through a few more pages, skimming for anything interesting and making more notes in whatever space was left in the margins, planning out his first lesson. He supposed he would have to start with the basics and go on from there. The students, especially ones who had grown up in an entirely muggle or wizarding family, would have trouble in the beginning, but he knew with time they would pick it up. History was a collection of stories, and stories can always be made captivating if told right.

And maybe, with the help of tape recorders and video cameras, he could get some other nations to give their own insight. Not the Frogs, no, Francis would probably make some sort of innuendo that would get England fired on the spot.

China, for sure. He was old enough to recall plenty of history England couldn't. He supposed maybe Scotland, Wales, and Ireland, but when referring to the past, he suspected they wouldn't be the kindest. India would be able to recount the several names and forms he'd been through, and maybe the combined efforts of Italy, Greece, Turkey, and Egypt could result in a mix of whatever stories they heard from their parents/past representatives. However, that would have to wait for a while, especially since he wasn't even sure he'd gotten the job.

...

Why was he doing all this time shenanigan nonsense before he got the job? Why hadn't Alice pointed out the flaws in his plan? He sighed loudly, gaining a few looks from the passenger beside him.

This was not well thought out at all.

-0-

Meanwhile, in Los Angeles, California.

"Yo Brady, what's the deal? Toss the ball already!"

Amelia Jones was up to bat, and she was playing to win. In the hot summer sun, with not a cloud in sight, she was ready to swing a few homers before the game ended.

The scrappy teen named Brady who she'd grown quite fond of in her few months of knowing him nodded and wound up to pitch, letting her get her bat ready.

His arm moved forward, his wrist snapped, and his fingers extended as the ball flung out of his hand. It was an overhand attempt at a fastball, flying straight at her with no remarkable speed. Amelia swung her bat easily with years of precision under her belt, and grinned as it made that satisfying crack and the ball flew too far to follow with her eyes.

"That's game!" She cheered, taking off her old Dodgers hat and wiping the sweat off of her brow. Brady looked just as peppy as before the game, which was one of the main reasons she liked the rascal so much. He kept coming back no matter how much she beat him. He walked up to her, a smile wide on his tanned face.

"One more game? Please?" He widened his brown eyes to try for the puppy-eyes look, which didn't make her feel like she wanted to make an "aww" sound, but succeeded in making her laugh.

She gave the rascal a gentle noogie. "Later, bud. I got a cousin to meet with."

He pouted, looking so much younger than the number above his head suggested. "Can you come back afterwards? I finished all my homework for the night, I promise! Mom won't get angry at you again."

"Maybe. My cousin's pretty boring though, because all she does is talk and talk and talk forever and ever. It’s lame, but I don't want to be rude and leave her hanging, y'know?"

Brady looked at the other neighborhood kids and back at her. "...Yeah, I guess. But we won't get to play until next Friday then."

"It's like that sometimes. But if I don't work during the week, I get yelled at and can't buy food to eat or rent my apartment. And if you don't do well in school, you won't be able to feed yourself either. Life comes first, then school, okay?"

Brady rolled his eyes, letting Amelia know that her words were bouncing off of him. He was only 11, so it was a little early to think about his life as an adult, but still. She didn't want to see Brady end up like some of her other baseball pals. "Okay, Amy. 'Night."

He gave his pals a signal with the tilt of his head and dejectedly walked away to his house. Amelia made sure to keep her eyes on all the kids and made sure they all went inside their homes before she left. She certainly wasn't irresponsible enough to do that.

But then, right before she was about to turn in the opposite direction and get into her car, her heart nearly stopped.

Brady's numbers.

They went down.

At first, they were 12151979-01192034, but then, just from that conversation, they went all the way down to 12151979-04161995.

What did she do? Why did they go down so much? He was supposed to live to 55, not 16!

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

Jesus fucking Christ, she biffed something up. But what was she supposed to do? Run back to his house, knock on the door of a family that doesn't like her, and tell their son to not listen to the good advice she just gave? Why did one game matter so much?

But, then again, this was a kid. She couldn't just let this kid die because of something she did!

"Miss?"

She tore her hands away from her hand, staring at the source of the voice. It was one of the kids who came to play baseball that day. She looked at his numbers.

Charles Addamson.  
12  
05031979-09102052

"Hey Charlie. What's up?" She asked as casually as possible, trying to quell her thumping heart.

He averted his eyes. "I- uh- are you alright?" His voice was hardly above a whisper by the time he finished his question.

Her heart felt like it dropped a good inch. She exhaled through her nose, which ever so slightly whistled. She didn't know how to reply. Usually it would be a, "Hell yeah!" or "Of course I am! I'm Amelia Elizabeth Jones!" but after basically telling herself that she reduced a kid's lifespan by nearly 40 years, she didn't have the same energy.

"I'm good, thanks."

"Oh." He fell silent. "...Do you want some of my candy bar?"

"Huh?"

He produced a smushed-looking Snickers bar from his pocket, still completely wrapped. "I won it from Lee on Friday, but I don't really like peanuts. Do you?"

She sat down right there, on the grass, crossing her legs. "Yeah. Wanna sit with me for a bit and just talk?"

He looked hesitant. He looked between her and his house multiple times before he even said another word. "I can't. My Dad wants me to be home for dinner really soon. But...can we talk tomorrow?"

She accepted the candy bar from him and tucked it in her pocket. "See you here at five?"

He nodded and ran back home. Left alone again, Amelia stayed on the grass, staring at the candy bar.

She'd save it for later. Maybe when she met up with Ally, her cousin would know what to do about Brady. Ally was always into that weird hoodoo shit.

God, she hoped Ally would know what to do.

-0-

They had decided, after a bit of a back and forth over the phone, to meet at a restaurant for dinner. Ally was probably gonna be exhausted from the timezone difference alone, and the last thing Amelia wanted to do was force her to go to a bar where there would be loud noises and bad smells.

No, today was going to be an easy, laid back day where they would talk calmly about whatever Ally deemed so important to _fly_ over to meet _her_ (not Alfred, which she found the strangest) and Brady's numbers. Ally had about double Amelia's life experience, and seemed smart, so it was possible she would have a solution to her dilemma. Or so Amelia hoped.

She pulled her car into a swanky Italian restaurant that was too expensive for her palate. Not anything absolutely outrageous, no, but it was still somewhat over her usual budget. Whatever, she could splurge from time to time.

Before entering the restaurant in her usual baseball outfit, she cleaned herself off in the car with a pack of baby wipes and a hand mirror before slipping on an emergency shirt, since wearing a bikini top in a restaurant was generally frowned upon. But, once she was...presentable, she left the car, locked it, and walked inside.

"Uh, hi, I have a reservation for Alice Kirkland?" She waited in line until it was her turn to wait to be seated. The moment she mentioned her cousin, she was whisked away to a private room in the back. It irked her how much she was treated specially whenever England came over. Always fancy restaurants, back rooms, expensive drinks. But today, she didn't have time to be annoyed.

"Amelia, how lovely it is to see you." Ally was sitting at a lone table in the center of the room, and somehow, despite having just gotten off of a plane a few hours ago, she had her hair and makeup done, as well as a pretty yet casual dress on. Her cousin got up to greet Amelia, and they hugged warmly. "Please, do have a seat."

Amelia sat down self-consciously in her chair and stared at her cousin to just get to the point. She knew that even Ally wasn't dumb enough to ignore how odd she was acting today. Luckily, Ally took her cue like she was supposed to.

"So, I'm sure you must be wondering why I'm here."

She wanted to say, " _Duh_ ", but held it back. "Yep."

Ally's face shifted from something warm to business-like, and her hands folded together. "I assume you have had little governmental work recently, correct?"

Ah, so she was doing the classic "I-ask-you-a-question-and-you-answer-to-emphasize-my-point" technique. "Sure, I guess. I have some stuff in the week, but I usually get it done before noon. Why?"

"I am giving you the opportunity-" Already, these words set off alarm bells in her head. "-to go on a vacation of sorts for the next year."

"What for? Where?" And the biggest question, "Why?"

"Would you mind waiting until I am finished?" Ally snapped. The way she reacted was more of a cold glare, compared to the loud and annoyed retort she would've gotten from someone like Lovino.

Amelia folded her arms across her chest. "Then get to it. Stop with all these random questions and tell it to me straight."

"I was planning to. The reason why I am asking you specifically to do this is because you, Matthew, and Jett are crucial to a plan of mine. As you know, back when you lived in our house-" "Our" was obviously referring to England. Amelia mind-vomited at the memory of stiff collars and British customs. "-Arthur and I practiced magic actively."

"And as I'm sure you know, magic is bullshit. You and the rest of Europe only had witch hunts because you were homophobic, misogynistic, and widow-phobic. What the hell. It’s cruel to ruin those poor people's memory by insisting that magic actually exists. They died for your fucked-up imaginary practice, and you still, in today's day and age, insist it’s real?" Her voice rose but she didn't care. Magic was a controversial topic in her family and for a good reason.

Ally stayed put and watched her rant with that emotionless stare that she used just to piss Amelia off. "Are you done?"

"No, I'm not. If you came all the way here from England to talk about magic, something that has deeply affected both of our countries' populations, you should've at least came to talk about something worth my time! You have the gall to call me over to this fancy-ass restaurant when you know that I don't have anything good to wear, out of the blue nonetheless, and you are just sitting there will your blank expression not showing any sort of remorse or care for everyone you're affecting! This is why we left your house, Ally. Because you, and Arthur, and Ollie, and Olivia don't care! You say you do, but then you go around doing selfish and horrible things like this!" Amelia stood up from her chair and glared.

"I'm sorry I wasted gas to drive over here to meet you. See you next Christmas or whatever." Amelia turned on her heel and marched out of the room without a single glance back. They'd had worse fights than this before, but Amelia was already emotionally strained from Brady's numbers. She did not need magic to add to the dumpster fire.

"Wait! Amelia, come back and listen!"

Her cousin's voice called behind her, but that only urged her to walk faster. Amelia shoved open the restaurant doors, walked over to her car, and started up the engine. She did not care where she was going, so long as it was away from Ally.

She did not even realize she was crying until a teardrop landed on her bare leg.

-0-

It turned out that her sanctuary of choice tonight was going to be a Dairy Queen. The place was practically deserted, except for one group of kids singing musical theater songs outside. She walked in and just stood in front of the counter, staring at the list of frozen treats that could possibly make her feel a little better emotionally. The tired teenager behind the counter didn't give her any trouble, instead working on what appeared to be homework. She was not even sure if she was hungry, but she needed something to focus on instead of her fucked up family and Brady and the shitty concept of magic.

She wiped away some of her remaining tears when she was ready to order, and tried for a smile. "Hi, uh-"

Carlos Alarcon  
18  
06131973-031892048

"-Carlos, can I get a large grasshopper pie blizzard?"

Carlos stood up and walked over to the register, obviously exhausted. "Sure. Anything else?"

"...A vanilla dilly bar."

He added it to the receipt. "Will that be all?"

"Yeah. Thanks a bunch."

He submitted her order and handed her the receipt as she paid with her credit card. "I'll have that out for you in a jiffy, ma'am." She suspected he meant for that to come out as enthusiastic, but instead it just came out as the most tired words she'd ever heard.

She related to this kid more than she related to her own species. "Sounds great."

Amelia leaned against the glass and stared absently at the menu, just waiting for the moment she could drown her worries in ice cream and leave it to a brain freeze to make her forget it all. She could not afford to despair this much over shortening a kid's death, especially with how many lives she witnessed being lost in the past. Famine, tragedies, wars, plagues, everything. But...

To know it was her words that led this kid to an early death hit differently.

"Ma'am? Your order is ready."

She snapped out of it and grabbed the ice cream, dropping a few dollars in the tip jar as she walked out to her car. Amelia sat in the driver's seat, turned on the radio, and listened to "Piece of My Heart" by Tara Kemp while she slowly ate her ice cream.

It tasted like nothing.

She eventually gave up and set the half-eaten ice cream aside, too tired and worn out to care about eating or driving or listening to kids scream lyrics from Little Shop of Horrors. She rolled up her window and leaned against it, waiting for something-anything-to happen. She didn't want to feel like this. Maybe calling Al would cheer her up?

No, he would probably be asleep by now, since he was in NYC. She groaned. Allen was probably not in the mood for chit-chat, and Ashlyn was, well, Ashlyn. She supposed she could try and remedy what she did to make Brady's numbers drop, but doing such a thing would probably force Brady to never see her again, and it still wasn't guaranteed to fix her mistake. She'd talk to him Friday afternoon and fix it, far away from Brady's mom.

The station switched to "We Are The Champions" by Queen, and while she didn't want to listen or see or hear anything remotely British, she was too lazy to switch the station. Her cell phone buzzed a few times, but she just ignored it. She knew it was Alice. Didn't she make it clear at the restaurant she wanted to be left alone?   
  
No, apparently not. Her stupid family never understood boundaries. When she asked Francis to stop looking at her boobs, he didn't. When she asked Arthur to stop talking about why British chocolate is superior, he didn't stop. Hell, even Canada was annoying sometimes. She hated them, she hated the world, and most of all, she hated herself. Alfred was the perfect version of her, smart, confident, cool. He didn't lose his cool around England ever, instead just laughing it off and playing it for a joke. He was her brother, the figurehead, and she was his sister, the spare.

God, if only she'd said yes to that one extra game of baseball. She wouldn't have had this shitty evening filled with worry and hate and despair. She wanted nothing more than just to do it over, even if it was incredibly selfish. But the world was just full of disappointments.

She wanted magic to be real, just this once, so she could solve all her problems with the flick of her wand.

Her phone rang again, and for the hell of it, she picked up.

"Do you know how worried I've been?"

Alice. Amelia kept her mouth shut and just waited for her to continue.

"Where are you? I'll take a taxi over there."

"Amelia, answer me. I'm serious. I didn't want to hurt you at all tonight. I just wanted to make a deal that was actually going to benefit you."

"Please answer. I know you're there."

"Amelia."

"I understand that you don't want to talk. But do you really think I would've spent over 10 hours on a plane just to talk about something I know you don't like? Amelia, you're smarter than that. Where's the little girl I used to know who liked to recite funny rhymes or do her multiplication tables faster than anyone else? She's still here, deep inside you."

“Please, say something."

Amelia let out a little sob she'd been holding in, her breath unsteady. "...Something."

There was a pause, and together, the both of them laughed so loudly that it felt Ally was right beside her, even if Amelia's laugh came out more as a mix of gasping, sobbing, and laughing. She didn't even know why she was laughing. Perhaps her body just needed it, or maybe her body was too tired with feeling sad and angry.

Either way, it felt really, really good.

"Are you ready to talk? I won't drive over to you if you don't want me to. We can talk right here, over the phone."

"Please. I'm too much of an emotional wreck to see anyone right now."

"Okay. Let me move to a private area then." The phone went silent on the other end, and Amelia had to check if Alice had hung up on her. She didn't. Amelia turned off the radio and waited for her cousin to speak again, which didn't happen for a few minutes.

"I'm ready. Amelia, please don't interrupt me this time. I want to get my full statement out before you misunderstand any more of my intentions. Understood?"

"Yeah."

"It's yes, not yeah. Anyways, I am offering you a year-long vacation in which you will be learning about the magic that does actually exist, not the scapegoat we used back in the days to kill random peasants. The reason I need you specifically is because of your personality. You are smart and know how to deal with riddles and puzzles, yet you're also incredibly friendly."

"Why do I need to learn this special brand of "magic" that apparently exists?"

"Here's where I need to know if you are serious about accepting my offer. Everything else is confidential unless you agree."

"Well, since I'm so smart, your words not mine, I'm gonna need a little bit more incentive and information than, "Oh wow, come learn this imaginary skill." Offer me something more."

"You do understand I'm offering a year-long vacation."

"Yeah, and I also understand that I can easily go off the radar for a year on my own. Something else."

"What do you want?"

Amelia snorted. What didn't she want? "I dunno, money, a cool car, the ability to redo the past 4 hours, Alfred's courage, you name it."

"...I can do that."

"Which one?" She suspected it was gonna either be the money or the car.

"Redoing the past 4 hours."

Amelia snorted. "Come on, be serious."

"I am. If I let you redo the past 4 hours, will you accept my offer?"

"If I redo the past 4 hours, you wouldn't know, would you?"

"It’s your responsibility to honor your side of the deal."

Amelia rolled her eyes. "Fine. Prove that you can do that and you have a deal."

"Meet me at the hotel as soon as possible. I'll be waiting." The call ended on that ominous note and left Amelia with a decision. Blow her cousin off, go to sleep, and forget about tonight or go to her hotel, see her fail, and then properly negotiate until Amelia could get something realistic and worth her time.

She was exhausted, but Alice had to be even more so, and therefore more likely to get tricked into a good deal for Amelia. She turned on her engine and drove towards the hotel, unsure of what she was going to find there.

-0-

Unlike the restaurant, the hotel was always a modest place. The reason England always stayed there when they came to LA was because of how honestly the hotel was run, and the charming nature. It wasn't big, bold, or grand, but instead a homey space just to wind down and sleep well. That alone was luxury enough.

She checked in with the old matron who ran the hotel and headed up to her cousin's room, 2B. Amelia did not even spend time taking in the old lady's numbers, just noticing the 65 and that was it.

"Ally, I'm here!" She called from the hall, knocking on the door marked with a bronze plaque.

The door opened, and her cousin stood on the other side. Her usually tied-up hair was loose, her glasses were off, and her usual business dress was replaced with a nightgown. Amelia blinked. She never saw Ally dressed like this unless one of her siblings woke Alice up in the middle of the night when they were colonies. "I'm glad. Please, come in. Everything's set up."

"...Uh, sure. You're serious about the magic thing?"

"Of course." As it turned out, she absolutely was. There were chalk circles on the floor and everything. Amelia made sure to steer clear of them and sat on the bed, waiting for Alice's instructions. On the off-chance this worked, the last thing she wanted was for it to go wrong.

"Now, you said four hours ago, correct? That would be 6:13 PM as of now."

She tried to remember what time her dashboard said when she climbed in her car at the park. It had to be around 5, because the traffic was horrendous. "Can you rewind all the way to 4:13?" It wouldn't hurt to go a bit further back. She didn't mind playing baseball again. She just wanted to save Brady.

"Six hours then. You have the past six hours to redo, so spend them wisely. I sincerely hope you honor our agreement."

If it worked... "I will."

"Good. Now, step into the center of the circle and do not move until you cannot hear my voice anymore."

Amelia got off of the bed and stood in the center. Maybe once she was done humoring her cousin, they would talk about real things.

Alice raised her arms and began speaking in Latin too quickly for Amelia to translate fully, but from what she got it sounded like, "Make the clock reverse, and bring back what once was mine. (Then something else, she didn’t catch it) The Fates' design and save what has been lost so you can bring back what once was mine." Then again, it was incredibly quick and she was more focused on the fact the chalk began to glow a pale, robin-egg blue. The light from the perimeter of the circle got closer and closer to her, and she squeezed her eyes shut from how blinding it was.

Then, she didn't hear Alice anymore.

Opening one eye, she found herself standing at bat, Brady up to pitch. It was the ninth inning again.

"Hey Amy, are you okay?"

Brady.

He was talking to her.

Frantically, she looked at his numbers.

Brady Henry Kaminski  
11  
12151979-01192034

2034\. Thank god.

She'd done it. She actually went back in time.

That hit her like a rock.

It worked. Time travelling was real. And therefore,

So was magic.

-0-

_**Author's notes!** _

_**Whoo boy do I have a lot to say.** _

_**First off, thank you to the anon who reviewed my story at 4:40 AM EST on May 1st. First review, and honestly, it felt great. Thank you for correcting my use of British slang as well. You'll find the document to be edited with your suggestion about knickers. I had a book when I was little that was called "The Queen's Knickers" and it was a silly little book about underwear, but apparently that doesn't apply to men??? I'm trying my best, so if anyone familiar with British slang sees misuse, please, speak up! Last thing I want is for the representative of England to incorrectly use their own slang.** _

_**Second of all, I'd like to give a huge shout out to Sakuragane_San, a friend who has support my friend and I in our fic writing since 2019 and helped me beta not only the first chapter, but read through and helped spot the little things my beta missed. <3 you! ** _

_**Third, thank you to my friend Yeetlejuice for reading the first chapter despite not knowing what Hetalia is, admitting to finding it semi-decent(nearly brought a tear to my eye, I tell you), and for being responsible for fueling my urge to make the opening passages as annoying to read as possible. Not only that, but also hugs to Angie, who read my story with more excitement than anyone and really cemented Amelia as a character.** _

_**Next, can I just give a huge shout-out to all the reviewers? All 4 of you made my day! Like, seriously. I refreshed my inbox every other hour and nearly cried every time I found one of your reviews. From the theories to people pointing out the Numbers of characters, I'm glad that you decided my fic was worth enough of your time to write a review!** _  
  
_**And lastly, a massive, overwhelming thanks to ReadtheBooks, an amazing person who has spent many hours talking to me about this chapter and the her culture. It is because of her that I got this chapter done so quickly, so that's something, but then she even decided to try a brand new platform to her just to help beta. That is commitment and I am so happy to have such an amazing beta.** _  
  
_**Now, to answer some questions/possible concerns:** _

_**-What are the numbers?** _

_**Well, without spoiling it too much for those who haven't gotten it, pay attention to the last four digits before the dash and the last 4 digits of the sequence.(The X's in OOOOXXXX-OOOOXXXX)** _

_**-How often are updates?** _

_**As often as I can make em! But in all seriousness, this fic would've probably been released on May 4, 2020 if I was unbeta-d, but with my beta reader having her own life and myself not knowing many other Hetalia fans, I had to shove the whole beta-ing process onto her for the most part(Although I will say thanks to Sakuragane_San for helping lighten the load a bit!) If you still want to beta, trust me, I will open you with open arms. Not only will chapters come out faster, but you can ask me stuff directly about my story plans.** _

_**-Why was Frozen referenced despite it being 1991?** _

_**If you know Hetalia, this line should be familiar: "We can't google thing in 1948 you asshat!" AKA, anachronisms. Anachronisms everywhere.** _

_**-How much longer until Hogwarts? The opening chapters are taking forever!** _

_**Well, I'm gonna estimate Hogwarts will begin at Chapter 4. This chapter was partially used to set up Amelia's character, since everyone has their own interpretation of her and I wanted to make it clear you all knew what my version of Amelia was like. Next chapter should hopefully be Amelia-healing time, meeting with Canada, and meeting with Australia.** _

_**-Do you think you will ever abandon this story?** _

_**I really, really hope not. Usually, I abandon a story from lack of reviews because to me, it seems I'm just not making good enough content to be talked about. But, I will tell you, as soon as I find any review, no matter how big or small(though the big ones feel extra nice), I start working on the next chapter for that reviewer. Either way, even if I still only get a few reviewers, I'm still going to try to go forward.** _

_** -If other characters appear, when? ** _

_**That's up for me to decide, but I have quite of few in mind.** _

_**I can't think of any more possible FAQs, so for now, I'll end the chapter here! Please remember to like this story if you enjoyed it, and if you have a little bit of extra time in your day, write even a short review.** _

_**Thank you so much for reading,** _

_Msperfectsheep_

_**P.S. Australians losing their shit over the fact Chicken and Waffles is a legitimate American dish is the funniest thing you will ever see( <3 you Elana and Lute)** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Reference: 
> 
> Mains:   
> Amelia Elizabeth Jones: Nyo!America  
> Arthur Kirkland: England  
> Jacob Alexander "Jett" Papalya: Australia  
> Matthew Jean Williams: Canada  
> Olivia "Vee" Kirkland: 2p!Nyo!England
> 
> Other(Varies per chapter):  
> Alice "Ally" Kirkland: Nyo!England  
> Alfred Franklin Jones: America  
> Jane Papalya: Nyo!Australia  
> Ashlyn Jones: 2p!Nyo!America  
> James Williams: 2p!Canada  
> Oliver "Ollie" Kirkland: 2p!England  
> Joel Kensington: Ollie's Stylist  
> Samantha Bremmings: Ollie's stylist  
> Francis Bonnefoy: France  
> Coco: Flying Chocolate Bunny  
> Allan Jones: 2p!America  
> Uni: England's magical unicorn  
> Brady Kaminski: Amelia's baseball friend from LA  
> Charles "Charlie" Addamson: Amelia's baseball friend from LA  
> Lovino Vargas: Southern Italy  
> Carlos Alarcon: Dairy Queen worker


	3. III

_The next of these beings to beest found wast a mistr'ss who hath call'd h'rself Greece. By the timeth the lady wast found, the lady wast weak, dying from the wanteth of pow'r h'r nation didst hold and the constant warring betw'n h'r city-states. But, coequal while the lady wast dying, the lady wast willing to bid h'r st'ries. Didst talk about the h'roes who is't didst exist, and toldeth us about h'r gods._

_H'r p'rsonal fav'rite wast Jason and the Golden Fleece, a famous st'ry yond is still toldeth to this day. The lady spoke of Jason liketh the lady knew'th that gent, and at the end'th of the st'ry, the lady coequal didst shed a few drops of sorr'w. The rec'rds speaketh of h'r as a loving yet s'rious mistress who wast constantly at war with h'rself ov'r how to treateth h'r state._

_It wast rec'rd'd many years lat'r yond the lady wast slain by a myst'rious sir in a mask. 't is unc'rtain who is't that gent is, but guesses has't didst point at the Ottoman Empire 'r Ancient Rome in disguise._

-Excerpt from Mysterious and Inexplicable Madnesses, written by Unknown. Published, 1531

-0-

"Hey Amy, are you okay?"

Everything was hitting her at once. The change in light, the sounds of cars driving by, the heat of the day. Physically, she was already disoriented, but the added bonus of having time traveled just made her want to throw up. It was her body, but also not. It felt like vertigo, if she could compare it to anything.

But if this was really real, and she was Groundhog-Daying it, she had the chance to keep Brady's numbers as they were before. Or was it currently? Time travel was messing with her brain.

Then again, it could just be a really realistic dream. She wouldn't put that past Alice.

"Hey, seriously, are you alright?" Brady dropped the ball onto the ground making up the pitcher's mound and jogged over to her. "Are you dehydrated?"

She would be if she threw up, which by the way her stomach was feeling, was becoming more and more of a possibility. "Um, yeah! Sorry, I just spaced out."

One of the other kids held his hand above his eyes, squinting from the sun being in his direct line of vision. "You sure? We can stop for today. It’s clear your team's won anyways."

No, she couldn't allow herself. She had to push through a whole other game to stop Brady's numbers from going down. She couldn't afford to just stop here! It could lessen Brady's lifespan even more.

"I'm good, guys, chillax! Brady, give me your best shot!" She tried for a smile and raised her voice, which was a tactic she learned from Alfred. Being louder made you seem more alive. Still, she hadn't forced herself to seem this energetic since Vietnam.

He nodded firmly, but she didn't miss the worried side-glance he gave her. If only he knew how much more worried she was about him. He walked over to the pitcher's mound, took in a deep breath, and wound up to throw. It was going to be a fast ball again.

His arm catapulted forward and his fingers extended as the ball flung out of his hand.

No, this couldn’t be right.

But her eyes wouldn’t lie to her.

It wasn't a fastball. No, instead it was a knuckleball.

She was taken off-guard so much that the ball flew straight into her sternum, knocking the wind out of her lungs and forcing her to step back just to steady herself.

Ouch, that was going to leave a mark. Amelia winced and covered the point of impact with her hand, dropping the bat to the ground. She sucked in air desperately in short, ragged breaths, trying to return her lung capacity to normal.

Some of the kids ran over to her, asking if she was okay, while the others ran over to Brady and started shouting at him. The ball was nothing like a bullet wound and she'd get over it easily if given a few minutes, but she couldn't imagine how it would feel to be in Brady's position. Amelia kept an eye on his numbers, almost daring them to drop again.

But they didn't. The last four numbers were still 2034. Maybe it wasn't the denial of a second game that made it drop, but her talk?

She'd just have to leave then. Say, _"Good game!"_ , jump in her car, and change into something nice so she was actually prepared for meeting with Ally. But part of her, the irrational, emotional side that left her at Dairy Queen last time, pleaded for her to console him.

He'd be so hurt if she didn't say she was okay.

He'd be dead if she did.

"Guys, I think you were right. I'm dehydrated. Do you mind if I just go home? We can play next Friday."

The baseball players agreed with no argument. It was clear to them, apparently, that she was off her game, which with these particular kids, was something that was seldom thought of, let alone seen. She was glad about that, because it didn't force her to explain herself. The implications did all the talking.

"See you guys then!" She waved goodbye, grabbed her bat and mitt, and walked over to her car. Once she was in the driver's seat, she kept an eye on the kids from far away, still making sure all of them safely returned home.

Charlie went home with his smashed Snickers, and the rest of the kids she hadn't interacted with did the same thing as last time. Brady's numbers stayed the same even when he went inside.

Was it really that easy? Was that all she had needed to do?

 _"Every action has an equal and opposite reaction."_ Issac Newton had once said. Her action was time traveling, which led to her feeling nauseous and missing the ball. The reaction, overall, was that Brady's numbers didn't change, she got hit in the chest by a knuckleball, and Charlie never gave her the Snickers.

But that was only the beginning. She knew the ripples were only the start. For example, she was now going to show up at the restaurant knowing what Ally was gonna say, and she was going to show up prepared.

Ally honored her part of the deal, and by being able to avoid killing off a kid almost forty years before he was destined to die, it was on Amelia to uphold a deal that technically hadn't been made yet.

She revved her sedan’s engine and pulled out onto the streets of LA, heading towards her apartment. She had twenty minutes before she was supposed to show up, but knowing how Ally had the ability to find watching paint dry interesting, she had 45 minutes tops.

Getting to her apartment was as painless as it could be for LA at 6:00 in the evening, and she quickly tore her place apart for a semi-fancy turquoise blouse and black pants. She ran a brush through her frizzy hair a few times before she gave up from all the knots, smeared perfume on herself just to mask the scent of dirt and sweat that'd built up from the hours of playing baseball in the sun, and dabbed on some lipstick.

She wasn't ready for the red carpet, but with the amount of time she had, Amelia would say she looked pretty damn good. She grabbed a purse, shoved her cell phone, wallet, and lipstick tube inside, and ran out of the apartment without a second thought. Once again, she was on the road, over the original time limit by 4 minutes already.

She pulled into the same parking space in front of the same swanky Italian joint at the same time as before thanks to some semi-illegal driving(Hey, she was the law, in a sense). She walked in with confidence, the pain from the knuckleball a thing of the past.

"I have a reservation for two. It’ under the name Alice Kirkland." She didn't wait in line this time, and she really didn't care about the people complaining behind her. They’d still get to eat dinner, and plus, Ally’s table was already set up. The waiter understood and escorted her to the same private room from before.

"Amelia, how lovely it is to see you." Ally was sitting at a lone table in the center of the room, dressed in the same outfit (at this point, why wouldn't she be?). Hugs were exchanged and Ally sized up Amelia's appearance. "Please, do have a seat."

It was like Amelia was playing a video game and she went back to a save point. Everyone's dialogue was the same unless she intervened. She sat down and waited for Ally to talk again.

"So, I'm sure you must be wondering why I'm here."

Again with the questions. Amelia rolled her eyes mentally, wanting Ally just to get to the meat of it and talk about magic. "Yes."

"I assume you have had little governmental work recently, correct?" Ally folded her hands and fixed Amelia with an owlish stare as she spoke. Amelia couldn't help but feel like Ally's gaze was more calculated than last time.

"Correct."

But the stare faded as a soft smile spread across her cousin's face. "Then you'll like what I'm going to say next. I am giving you the opportunity to go on a vacation of sorts for the next year."

Amelia was silent, remembering how Ally snapped at her interruption the last time, though she did manage to fake a happy-surprised face.

"The reason why I am asking you specifically to do this is because you, Matthew, and Jett are crucial to a plan of mine. As you know, back when you lived in our house, Arthur and I practiced magic actively."

Amelia nodded, taking a sip of water. "Mhm." She was curious about what Ally was going to say next. She hadn't gotten this far last time.

"Our plan is for you to attend a magic school next year. We're not sending you for educational purposes, however. Think of it more as...infiltration." Alice stopped and watched Amelia, signalling to her that she was allowed to speak.

"Go on, please." She finally answered. Maybe her polite demeanor would give her more information.

"I will not be able to disclose anything else until you agree to help. The information behind this is incredibly confidential. You understand, don't you?"

...Or maybe not. No matter. She knew her answer this time.

"I'll help." It was her payment for being able to save Brady's life.

Something flashed in Alice's eye. "Thank you. Starting September 1st, yourself and Olivia will be attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for one semester. Your goal is to befriend and protect a boy named Harry James Potter for that year." Her cousin produced a grainy photo of a thin, small boy with thick black hair, baggy clothes, and glasses so thick and broken that even stereotypical nerds would be sympathetic.

"Alright." Amelia kept her voice even. "What am I protecting him from, and why?"

It was a reasonable question. She wasn't going into a magic fight with nothing.

"It could be anything, but the main danger is a wizard by the name of Voldemort." These words and names were ridiculous. Hog Warts? Seriously? People would make less fun of a school named Sum Ting Wong High. "He has been behind several mass murderers across the United Kingdom for decades. We have reason to believe he will target Harry Potter from the evidence we have gathered suggesting that, as an infant, he was able to survive a killing curse that fully-trained wizards fell victim to."

Amelia smirked. "Sounds like you have a British wizard rip-off of Superman."

"He may as well be. The wizarding public has spoken his name for the past decade like one would speak of a superhero. He isn't just the only known survivor of Voldemort-" She didn't notice it before, but Ally visibly shook when she said Voldemort.

"-But he is also the Wizarding public's sign of hope that there is a way to end this onslaught of blood and violence. I know this has nothing to do with your country or yourself personally, but we need you specifically, Amelia, for this to work."

Magic, killing curses, time travel, all of it was utterly absurd. It was irrational and impossible by every rule of reality that had been proved and Amelia knew of. She should've just walked out the door again and been glad she'd saved Brady's life.

But a deal's a deal.

Amelia sighed. It was just a year. She'd spent several years just jogging across America. She'd spent several years traveling internationally. She'd spent a lot of years on much more boring things (although they were actually realistic) than a magical serial killer.

"Where do I start?"

-0-

"Who are you?"

Those three words made a phrase that Canada was never going to escape. No matter what he did, whether it was dressing up like Alfred, entering international hockey tournaments, or even convincing James to let him act in his stead one day, it always ended in the same question. He even tried writing his name across his forehead in red marker. Nothing worked.

Sometimes, even Prime Minister Mulroney forgot him. Canada was literally his country, and yet he never remembered the name or identity of the shy, tall, young man working for him. The one who at least said, "Good morning, Mr. Mulroney!" and "Have a good evening, Mr. Mulroney." once every single day.

It was just a little bit annoying.

But, when Kumajiji said it, he took it less as the actual phrase and more of a " _How_ are you?"

So, he responded this morning like he usually did. "I'm doing great, Kumahiro. Are you hungry?" He pulled the bear off of his face and felt around his bedside table for his glasses, finding them after the fourth pat.

"Yes." The bear simply responded, walking ahead of the nation to the kitchen, where he would wait patiently at the table until Canada made him breakfast. It was all one big routine, but that didn't bother Canada. He preferred order over chaos.

He shuffled over to the shower, turned it on, and jumped in to wake himself up for the day before making breakfast. He was too tired and low energy to fix anything special, so for breakfast he and Kumaduri had the esteemed, incredibly rare, Raisin Bran.

Some would complain about the lack of sugar, but when your neighbor is America, you get enough sugar from the air alone.

While he made his way through the bowl of cereal, he mentally went over what he had to do today. Take out last night's trash, refill Kumaochi's water bowl, take out the dishes from the dishwasher and load them into their proper places in the cabinets, get the mail...

He skipped over the more basic tasks, realizing counting all of them would take too long. Therefore, by elimination, the first important task of the day was going out to breakfast with Alice.

Oops.

He looked at his current breakfast in realization. He'd just eat something light at the cafe. Besides, it was cheaper. Kumamoru would look after the house while he was out, and after meeting up with his cousin, he would go and help Mrs. Schmidt with her leaky shower head.

He didn't need to be a nation or anyone special to perform the tasks he volunteered to do, but with James and Marietta handling all the political stuff, Canada just wanted something to do that made him feel special. And most humans didn't tend to forget him like Kumadere and the other nations.

He washed out his cereal bowl and put it in the dishwasher, doing the same for Kumaku. The polar bear thanked him politely and waddled over to the couch where he sat and watched the news, waiting patiently for Canada to get ready for the day. Get ready he did, and in no time he was dressed, cleaned, and ready to go.

He picked up Kumaruri, grabbed his car keys, and drove to YOW airport to pick up Alice, who'd flown into LAX the night before. She was waiting at the luggage carousel, talking to-

"Amelia?"

Sure enough, the peppy blonde his cousin was talking to also happened to be his sister.

"Mattie! Wow, you're still tall!" She bear-hugged him with a grip stronger than any normal human.

He hugged her back. "I didn't know you were coming along." He commented, breathless, still trying to recover from Amelia's grip.

Alice looked happy, or at least, had a satisfied smile on her face. "It was a last minute decision. Thank you for driving over here."

"It's my pleasure." Well, he hadn't been expecting Amelia, but at least she knew who he was. Amelia was like, if you combined Alfred's happy-go-lucky attitude with the mind and analysis skills of India. She would definitely make the visit interesting.

His sister yawned. "Man, getting up super early for this flight was annoying though. I was planning on going to this waffle joint for breakfast, but I know your thing is pancakes, so yeah." He didn't understand what point she was trying to make, but nodded anyways.

"I'll treat you to a good breakfast, don't worry." He assured her.

Alice grabbed a black suitcase off of the carousel and swung it onto the ground. "That was the last bag, so unless anyone needs to use the loo, I think we're ready to go."

"I'm good. A lil tired, but that can be remedied with a strong cup of Joe." Amelia stared at Alice, waiting for her reaction. Canada groaned. Again, with the Coffee vs. Tea debate. This had been going on for centuries.

But to his surprise, Alice simply brushed it off. "That sounds excellent. Matthew, lead the way."

He wouldn't say that Amelia's let-down face didn't at least make him smile.

-0-

Out of everywhere they could've went to, Amelia selected a Tim Horton's. He didn't exactly have a grudge with the place, no, far from it, but it was just so...casual? It wasn't a place of any significance to him.

Alice didn't seem to mind. She ordered a small breakfast of a pastry and coffee with extra cream, probably too tired or jet lagged to care about what entered her body. Canada did the same, ordering a maple donut and coffee for himself and Kumadere to share later.

And then there was Amelia's order. He winced in sympathy of the woman behind the register and watched as her horror grew along with the length of Amelia's receipt. It was like watching a train crash. Yet, his sister didn't seem fazed in the slightest. She paid for her order with the swipe of her card and waited patiently beside Canada and Alice for her food.

"So, Alice, not to seem rude, but why the sudden visit?" He asked out of the blue.

"I'm here to offer you a year-long vacation."

He withheld a frown. A vacation? His life was pretty eventless already. He didn't need less to do. "Uh-"

"-There's more. It’s not just a vacation. It is more of a chance to gather information. You will not be relaxing during this vacation. It'll be a full time job. You will have an objective and a mission, and failure cannot be considered as an option."

That sounded a lot more appealing. Something to do, to focus on.

"Where's the 'vacation'?"

Amelia rolled her eyes. "She won't tell you unless you agree. Trust me, this thing's legit from what I can tell."

Canada was taken aback. "Is that why you're here? Because you already agreed to her offer?"

"Yepperoni and cheese."

Everything suddenly made more sense. Why Alice went to LA first and why Amelia was here. If his sister had already agreed, it had to be solid. She would never go into anything unprepared, unlike Allen and Alfred.

"What will you do to cover for our absence?" A question finally came to mind.

"I will discuss that once we meet up with the final candidate, but don't worry, I have a plan for it." Amelia was right about the "no telling" aspect.

He sighed and took a sip of his coffee contemplatively, both his cousin and sister waiting for his answer. He had to help Mrs. Schmidt with her plumbing problems earlier than he planned.

"I'm in."

-0-

"And then, we're going to this weird ass school named Pigfarts-"

"Hogwarts."

"-Same difference. Anyways, we're going to that school as undercover bodyguards, basically."

Canada drove through Ottawa, with Amelia sitting in the back of his old car and Alice in the passenger seat. Amelia had taken it upon herself to spill the beans on the previously-hidden details about his "vacation", and Alice was doing her best to correct Amelia whenever she could. Canada blocked both of them out for the most part, the constant interruptions too distracting to pay attention to the actual words being said. He'd just ask Alice for a recap on the apparent flight to Australia he'd be taking today. They were only going back to his house to grab Kumaraji and pack up a small suitcase.

Oh, and help Amelia fix Mrs. Schmidt's shower. He'd have to explain to Mrs. Schmidt who Amelia was, but once that was done he could jog back home and continue packing while his sister handled the plumbing. Alice was determined to do...something at his house. Probably something like brewing herself a cup of tea, but he could never be sure.

Things went smoothly when he arrived home. Kumahito had some questions, but decided that they weren't worth asking and instead just agreed to join in on the adventure. A quick walk over to Mrs. Schmidt's house later, and Amelia was fixing the plumbing of an 83 year old woman's house (and probably doing other odd jobs just to keep busy). Alice kept to herself, leaving Canada a distraction-free environment to shove together a small suitcase.

He didn't need to think much about what he packed, having gone through this several times. Alfred always dragged him off to the weirdest places at the strangest times, like when he barged into Canada's house at 3:45 AM announcing they had a flight to Argentina in 2 hours.

He couldn't remember the last time he attended school. Did he need a uniform? Slates? He hoped he wouldn't get in trouble because of Amelia, because he remembered how much switches hurt.

As he tried to recall how school worked(would he have to gather firewood?), his hands moved on their own, and his suitcase was packed up before he knew it. He didn't immediately leave his room though, instead staring at his bedroom like one would look at an old, nostalgic photograph.

It'd be a while since he slept in that bed again. Everything would be so dusty when he came back, so he'd have to do a thorough cleaning.

He knew that he was just stalling. It felt weird to be working under Alice again, and while he didn't find her leadership to be bad at all, it just reminded him of the days before independence. Living under the same roof as England with all the other colonies. It was like a zoo, thinking back. The older colonies, like India, would try to keep them busy in the day, but still.

There were many, many naughty things they did.

"Matthew? How are you faring?" There was a knock at his door, and Alice's voice at the other end.

He jolted a bit out from surprise. "I'm done packing."

"May I come in?"

He nodded, and realized only a second later she wouldn't see his nod. "Uh, sure."

His bedroom door swung open and Alice walked in, holding two cups of tea. She handed one to him and gently sat on the edge of his bed. "I have not yet told Amelia this, but you will be assuming the form of your 12-year old self. 12, physically, at least. You will be going through grade school, but they will not teach simple subjects like Math and Languages. All the subjects pertain to magic."

His 12 year old body. Last time he was built like that was...late 1700's? Early 1800's? He couldn't remember. He just knew that his body was small and lithe back then, and that he could easily win at hide and seek.

"Okay. At least its new territory, so I'll be learning something new." He nodded along.

"Precisely. All your school supplies will be bought in England, so you shouldn’t worry about that."

Welp. He wouldn't be needing those pens he packed, would he? But, he liked them so much that he'd bring them anyways. "Is there anything else I should know about?"

"Nothing I can think of currently. I'll discuss everything in full once we talk to Jett and meet with Arthur."

That end bit caught him off-guard. "Arthur? But I thought he was searching for his teapot?"

"I'll let my brother explain when we meet up with him. He had a delay in Heathrow, and we're unfortunately going to keep missing him by a few hours until Australia. If you're ready, we should be going. The flight leaves soon."

Canada looked at his untouched tea, his room, and Alice sequentially. "Then let's go."

-0-

It turned out that not only had Amelia fixed the plumbing, but she also filed Mrs. Schmidt's taxes. Canada felt sick just thinking about how much the world could accomplish if all the nations worked as hard as Amelia had at Mrs Schmidt’s house.

-0-

A few hours later, in a land down under.

"Oi, Bumbunga, get down from there!"

"You can't make me!"

Out in the backyard of Australia's house, up in the branches of a scotch elm, was a ginger girl blowing raspberries at anyone and everyone who came close. Her face was smeared with warpaint-like designs made by strawberry jam, and her dungarees were covered with dark, rich dirt. The reason why?

She planted another unwanted strawberry farm in the yard. For the second time this week.

"I'm going to count to ten young lady, and you better be down from there by the time I get to zero!"

He glared at the micronation, who stubbornly stayed up in the branches even after he reached zero. He sighed and glared at the pigtailed girl. "That's it, I'm climbing up!"

She screamed and scrambled up the branches, climbing to the more unstable areas just to avoid being grabbed by Australia. "No! Leave me alone, you big old meanie!"

Despite her efforts, Bumbunga was grabbed and brought down from the tree rather effortlessly. Australia held her firmly by the shoulders and looked at the spot where her eyes would be if she wasn't looking away.

"Bumbie, I told you not to do that and you didn't listen. Why?"

She kept her mouth shut. and avoided his gaze. He could smell the fresh strawberry jam's sweet scent coming from her face, and wondered how much jam they'd eat this week. Jane and Steve didn't mind the flavor, but he was more of a grape jelly person himself.

"As a punishment, you're gonna be washing all the windows today, and no dessert." He decided. Bumbunga's scowl deepened, but still, no words came out. Her face was bright red, and he couldn't tell if it was from the crisp, cool winter air or embarrassment. "And you'll help Janie with dinner."

That made her look at Australia. He was phrasing it like it was an insult, but he knew Bumbunga was perfectly happy with anything food-related. Plus, he never allowed her to use the kitchen because everything came out somehow strawberry-flavoured. He clapped her on the back. "Go on, get with it."

She nodded and ran off to the shed to fetch the supplies needed to wash windows. He didn't exactly punish her, but it would keep her busy all day and give him time to dig up all of her strawberry bushes.

How she even got them, he didn't know. For someone who prided themselves on being more English than he was, she was awfully immature, even more so than Sealand. Planting strawberries in the shape of the island of Great Britain was one of the many immature acts she often performed. At least the twins Gay and Lesbian Kingdom of the Coral Sea Island (Garry and Leslie for short) kept to themselves when they were being annoying.

It was so early in the morning the sun hadn't even come up, but that also meant it was a perfect time to start working. Housework before paperwork, then caring for the wildlife. Zee always complained about how early he got up, but he didn't find it weird at all. He naturally got up before the sun and went to sleep early.

Australia walked over to the freshly-planted strawberry plants, and with a trowel, slowly began un-earthing them and placing them in their own containers. It was cold enough for his breath to condense in front of him, so why in the world did Bumby think it was reasonable to plant strawberries?

Whatever, he'd just keep them in the greenhouse. He worked through the massive amount of plants, carefully taking them out of the soil and transplanting them to pots. He didn't even notice that Jane had come up behind him until she spoke.

"Oi, there's a call for you. Did you know Ally was coming over today?"

He set down his trowel. "No, I don't think so. What'd she say?"

"That she's been waiting at the airport for over twenty minutes and that you promised to pick her up." Jane folded her tanned arms across her chest. "I think you forgot."

"Did not. She's pulling it out of her arse like usual." He brushed the dirt off of his pants and stood.

Jane looked torn between her brother and cousin. "Go inside and work it out with her then. I'll take over for you."

He nodded and handed her the trowel. "Bumby's supposed to be washing windows right now, so keep an eye out. I don't any of the kids are awake other than her and Lucy. Poor babe's been coughing up a storm."

Jane nodded, obviously crestfallen. "She's not looking too good. If conditions don't get better, I think she'll disappear within the next few months."

"I'll check on her after I finish the call." Australia decided, ending the conversation by walking towards the house. He picked up the home phone and dialed in the number Jane had written neatly.

"Hello?"

The first thing he heard, before even a proper hello, was an annoyed huff. "Where are you?"

He wasn't expecting those words to come out of Ally's mouth in the way they did. Rarely did she sound this annoyed (unless she was in the same room as France). "Sorry Sheila, forgot you were coming! I'll drive over in no time."

He hadn't forgotten. He didn't even know in the first place. But arguing with Ally seemed like a terrible idea judging by the tone of her voice.

"Fine. We'll be waiting in the usual pick-up spot."

He almost said, " _Goodbye_ " until he thought about her words. "...Wait, _we_?"

"Amelia and Matthew came along. That shouldn't be a problem, correct?"

He didn't think it would be, but why both Amelia and Matthew? They weren't holding anything relating to ANZUS, not since the split in '84. "No, don't think so. We're always happy to host friends."

"Good. I'll see you then." Her voice was clipped and to the point, like usual, and she ended the call before he could say goodbye.

Australia put the receiver down on the stand, ending the call on his side. Right-o, he'd need to make a little bit more toast for Matthew and Amelia, but hey, at least it would cut down on the amount of strawberry jam that was crowding the cupboard.

But, before he left, he checked on Lucy. Known to the rest of the world as Aeterna Lucina, she was a micronation formed only a few years ago, in '78. As he walked into her room, he could smell the sickly atmosphere immediately after opening the door.

The room was dark and hot, despite the cold outside. With the light flooding in from the hall behind him, he could see Lucy's pale skin slicked with sweat, and her dark, unruly curls matted. Her breathing sounded just as labored as it had been for almost a year now.

"G'morning, Lu." He whispered, unsure on whether she was awake or asleep. The frail micronation groaned and moved weakly, telling him that she was awake. He walked up to her bedside and placed his hand on her forehead.

It was piping hot.

"Would you like some water?"

She nodded slightly, probably as much as she could without feeling pain. He winced. He never could understand what it felt to die, but he was sure she was experiencing it right now. He'd seen this happen to other micronations before, and if they managed to recover from their illness, usually they still ended up losing their immortality. The most famous example was Niko-Niko, but he was weird because he was a human beforehand.

He poured her a glass and helped her drink, slowly tilting the glass so she could drink without partially choking. Her skin was still incredibly hot, but hopefully the water would take down her fever a bit. Doctors or medicine would do nothing to help her. It was up to the founder of her nation to stay alive.

"Do you want anything to nibble on?"

She closed her eyes and croaked out a barely heard, "No...thank you..."

He nodded. Lucy was stubborn, even when ill. "If you ever want anything, you know we'll help you."

She was already asleep, snoring softly with her occasional gasps. He stood there, watching her sleep, heart heavy. She was holding on as best she could, but it was clear that that effort was painful. He felt that she wasn't going to recover, no matter how much he hoped that feeling to be false.

Without another word, he walked out of her room and closed the door.

The thud itself sounded like a death omen.

-0-

After that solemn moment, Australia needed something to pick up the mood. He wasn't a fan of depressing atmospheres at all. That was Russia's job, and he did it well, seeing Lithuania and Latvia's reaction at the mere mention of his name.

Talking to Amelia and Mattie would pick up the mood a bit. Amelia wasn't as happy-go-lucky as Alfred, but she was sarcastic and witty and he loved her wisecrack comedy. Matthew was mellow, but always pleasant to be around.

The airport was waking up, with a few cars darting about but not nearly as many as there would be in 30 minutes. Standing in the "usual spot", were the blondes, sitting on their suitcases and talking. He pulled up to the curb and rolled down the window, a cheeky smirk immediately coming onto his face naturally. "Need a lift?"

Amelia yawned, but her eyes flickered with a cheeky energy. "Took long enough! I was starting to think that you wanted us to walk to your house."

"Thank you for coming here." Matthew said sleepily, clutching his bear. What was its name again? Kuma...something. Matthew always missed up the second half of the name that even he didn't know the bear's full name.

"All jet-lagged, right?" He asked, taking in their sleepy expressions and disheveled appearances. All of them nodded. "Come on then, let's get you all a nice filled breakfast to wake up with."

"Please." Alice climbed into the passenger seat. "I've grown sick of airplane food after 3 days of travel."

Everyone clambered in, and, like he thought, his mood improved significantly as Amelia started talking about how she beat a guy at poker 18 rounds in a row. Matthew nodded off, and Alice pulled out a book and began writing in it, leaving him and Amelia to chat freely. The drive back seemed much quicker than the drive there, and by the time he parked, the sun had already risen.

"I always forget that it’s winter here in July." Alice commented, stepping out of the car and wrapping herself in a shawl. He would've advised her to wear something a bit thicker, but she was England. This weather was probably what she experienced in fall and spring.

Amelia snorted. "I'd think you of all people would remember that, Ally. Starting to go senile?"

"Oh, shut your trap."

Canada hugged Kuma close, seemingly completely content with simply existing. "The house looks great. Been putting a lot of work into it, eh?"

Australia's chest puffed up with pride. "Sure have. It seems like we're improving faster than I can keep track of. The kids are growing up quickly too. Have you seen the pictures of Hutt I sent recently?"

He grabbed their suitcases from the boot and carried them into the house, where several of the micronations were already eating breakfast at the table. "I'm home!" He announced. Some of the kids said hello, some tried to say it with full mouths, and some just silently acknowledged him.

Their reactions were different as soon as Alice entered, followed by Amelia and Matthew. Baby Erika squealed with delight and chucked a glob of strawberry jam at Matthew as a welcome gesture, Rory looked up from his usual hobby of counting money, Lance jumped up from his chair and hugged Amelia, Garry and Leslie waved, and Bruce stopped eating cereal.

"Quite the welcoming committee." Alice chuckled. Matthew wiped the strawberry jam off his shirt the best he could, unintentionally sending Jane an embarrassed look.

"No, Erika, we don't do that. We don't throw things." She chided, taking away Erika's stockpile of sweet, sticky ammo.

Matthew shook his head. "No, really, it’s fine. This is an old shirt anyways."

"But dude, you gotta admit the kids got aim. Nice going!" Amelia laughed, messing up Lance's combed hair. "You and your baby sis have gotta play baseball with me sometime."

Jane pushed strands of loose brown hair out of her face. "So, it’s great to see you all, but why are you here? This visit is pretty random."

Alice looked like she wanted to sit down and talk, but every chair in the room was either occupied by a child or random shit. "We're here to ask Jett to come on a year-long...secret mission with us." She obviously planned to say something else, but rephrased when she saw the children watching her intently.

The gasp that came from Bruce could only be described as the deepest breath ever taken. "Are you gonna finally fight for the farmers?!"

"What? No." Alice looked more confused than ever, but her response didn't discourage Bruce. No, it actually encouraged him.

"The farmers are not being treated properly by the gove-govemment!' He struggled with the word. "There are no bridges! We need bridges!"

Lance nodded vigorously. "Can we have a bridge to Mars? Can we? Can we? Can we? Come on, Can we?"

"Of course not." Rory scoffed, straightening a stack of money. "That's not a good idea financially. Not to mention, impossible."

"But Mars!" Lance began to wail.

Australia watched the scene unfold in front of him the same way someone watches a tidal wave as it crashes above them. He could see Jane was already losing patience with the kids, and he would soon enough as well. "Enough. Kids, there's no bridges being built. Unless you can pay for them yourselves, we're not building any."

There were several noises of disappointment that came from the children, but Australia knew they would pop back to their natural selves soon enough. After round one of breakfast finished, he scooped up baby Erika in his arms and held her on his hip while the kids dismissed themselves to go play in the yard.

Jane helped herself to a granola bar and piece of Fairy Bread and ate in silence while the rest of the adults stood around. "Well, now you can explain what you mean Ally." Australia suggested, shifting his weight from one foot to another rhythmically to soothe Erika.

Alice took a seat and cleared her throat. "First of all, good job on maintaining your sanity with all those micronations. You now know how we felt when we were the Empire. Second of all, I'm asking for you to work under me for an entire year."

Amelia and Matthew sat down silently, listening.

"What work?" Australia inquired.

"You will be gathering information and protecting a certain individual. The rest I cannot disclose until you agree to my terms."

That sounded shady. "What're all the terms?"

"You will allow me to perform magic on you, you will work under England's instruction for an entire year, you will not disclose what you learn while working for me, and you will not reveal your location to anyone unless England gives you explicit permission."

Jane swallowed a mouthful of Fairy Bread. "That sounds mostly reasonable, other than the fact that I won't be able to communicate with him and you're going to be doing magic on him like a guinea pig."

Amelia coughed. "I know this sounds weird coming from me of all people, but her magic's legit."

She was met with several confused looks, but she refused to elaborate, instead helping herself to a slice of toast.

"...Well, as Amelia said, it is indeed real and safe. Both Matthew and Amelia have agreed to aid me."

Jane shared a look with Australia that clearly said, "No."

But his impulses said yes.

"Sure."

Baby Erika squealed with delight and clapped his face with her hands in approval.

-0-

"Aunt Ally is doing something with Jett." Garry pointed out, sitting on the grass underneath the tree.

He was drawing in the dirt with a stick, and while most of the nations didn't really like the cold, they knew that when the adult nations wanted to be alone to go out. Rory sighed and started stacking his coins, building a little pyramid. "Why do you care so much? You wouldn't be trusted to help them out anyways, unlike me."

"Shut up! You're just a bank. You don't even own any land!"

Rory rolled his eyes. "At least I'm worth something. You're just the representation of Gay. A sexuality. Not even something that can be touched."

Leslie pushed down Rory's coin tower. "Don't be mean, or I'll rip up your money again."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

Lance stood. "Guys, guys, don't fight. We have to worry about the real problem here. Building a bridge to Mars."

"Bridges are good." Bruce nodded along.

Garry rolled his eyes and crossed his arms, watching as Lance scratched at a scab until it started to peel off. "No. I say we listen to Auntie Ally hear what she came here to talk about."

"I dunno. You saw Bumby today. I don't wanna wash windows." Leslie worried.

The conversation fell silent until Lance whispered, "...What if it's about Lu?"

That in itself made Rory stop counting his money. All the micronations just sat there, processing Lance's words. It couldn't be. They knew Lu was sick, but she wasn't so sick that something bad was going to happen, right? Jane said so.

"I miss Lulu." Leslie teared up. "Me, and Lu, and Wy used to have teatime."

Rory huffed. "If its about Lucy, we should know. She's our sister."

"But...she can't die, right?" Bruce scratched his knee.

His question went unanswered, and even though there was no winter wind, all of them shivered. 

-0-

Author's Notes:  
  
 _ **Next chapter gonna be the beginning of it all! Tired England(he's been flying non-stop for 3 days, someone save him), Dumbledore, shopping and preparing for school, de-aging, and more! I am really, really pumped to get to Chapter 4, so here's to hoping I get it out sometime next week! However, until the 28th of May, I'll most likely be pre-occupied with exams, and the update schedule will slow a bit. My goal for updates is every 3-6 days, but please be understanding if they don't coming out by then(You guys have been so far, so thank you!)**_

_**Now, its shout-out time, isn't it? I've been saving these two commenters for a while, because both of you have supported me through every one of the chapters so far and with some of my older fics!** _

_**First, huge round of applause for Syntax-N! They not only have given me absolutely massive reviews every chapter but ask lovely and insightful questions in PMs. Honestly, your reviews are what keeps me feeling so motivated to churn out 6000+ words over then span of 2-3 days. I have no idea what I would do without you reviewing my fics, seriously.** _

_**Second of all, kudos to Twashcat360, who, while not giving me long reviews, have always reviewed every chapter with simple yet encouraging messages. Every time I open my inbox and find a review from them, it makes me smile. Thank you so, so much.** _

_**Next, thank you to everyone who bookmarked/followed my story. I've been (semi-obsessively) checking my inboxes for any sign of my story being liked, and just even a simple notification that someone decided to drop a kudos/favorite or a bookmark/follow makes me absolutely glow.**_

_**Finally, I want to say thank you to my two amazing beta readers who not only have provided incredibly funny headcanons to think about, but also read and comment on my rough drafts sometimes as soon as they wake up. Even though we've several timezones apart, you two make me smile so much whenever you even just message me on Discord. Without your help and enthusiasm, this chapter most likely wouldn't have come out until 2 weeks from now, if I had the motivation to write at all.** _

_**Its because of y'all's feedback that I have the steam to keep on going, and even a short review saying a favorite line or a question about the fic not only brightens my day, but encourages me to write more. And if you ever want to message me and chat about this fic or just general stuff, I'd be more than down. The tag's Fluff#0929 like usual, and if you don't have discord, you can shoot me an email at those2peeps@gmail.com.** _

_**Bless you all, and stay safe during COVID.** _

_Msperfectsheep_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Reference: 
> 
> Mains:  
> Amelia Elizabeth Jones: Nyo!America  
> Arthur Kirkland: England  
> Jacob Alexander "Jett" Papalya: Australia  
> Matthew Jean Williams: Canada  
> Olivia "Vee" Kirkland: 2p!Nyo!England
> 
> Other(Varies per chapter):  
> Alice "Ally" Kirkland: Nyo!England  
> Brady Kaminski: Amelia's baseball friend from LA  
> Charles "Charlie" Addamson: Amelia's baseball friend from LA  
> Alfred Franklin Jones: America  
> PM Mulroney: Canada's Prime Minister from 1984 to 1993  
> Kumajiro(or any variation of Kuma+a random ending): Matthew's talking polar bear.  
> Mrs. Schmidt: Matthew's neighbor  
> Marietta Williams: 2p!Nyo!Canada  
> Allen Jones: 2p!America  
> Jane "Janie" Papalya: Nyo!Australia  
> Bumby: Bumbunga  
> Lucy "Lu" Papalya: Aeterna Lucina  
> Garry and Leslie Papalya: Gay and Lesbian Kingdom  
> Erika Papalya: Aerican Empire  
> Lance Papalya: Empire of Atlantium  
> Rory Papalya: Grand Duchy of Avram  
> Bruce Papalya: Independent State of Rainbow Creek


	4. IV

_How art nations f'rmed? Doth theie pope out of the earth liketh daisies in springeth, 'r art the f'rm'r humans? Art theie divineth beings from heaven?_

_'tis unc'rtain what the answ'r is. Nations, acc'rding to the ones who is't w'reth talketh'd to, doth naught knoweth themselves. Theie simplie accepteth their existenceth f'r what 'tis and doth naught questioneth 't. Someth oneth consid'r yond lazie and someth wouldst consid'r yond braveth. Nay oneth is sureth of whith'r the nations cometh from, onlie yond m're art madeth o''r timeth._

_Theie bleedeth liketh humans, but so longeth as their is a pieceth of those folk, theie shalt cometh backeth. 't hath been proven onlie nations canst slaie oth'r nations, and most art loath to in the first placeth. P'radventure those gents'reth m're human than weth art._

-Excerpt from Mysterious and Inexplicable Madnesses, written by Unknown. Published, 1531

-0-

"No matter how long it took me to cross the Atlantic or travel to India, I still can't find myself happy with how long I was flying for." 

Alice rolled her eyes and swallowed a mouthful of tea. "Arthur, you're just a big baby. We're all waiting for you at Jett's home, and what are you doing?"

"Don't even try that on me. I am too tired to care about the people waiting." His voice crackled through the handset, slightly distorted, but she could pick up on more than enough sass. 

"That'll be enough out of you. You may be the older of us two, but I'm the one who remains logical when tired. Call a cab and arrive within the next hour. Otherwise, we're leaving without you again."

She was glad that Jane and Jett lent her one of the guest rooms to chat privately in. From how childish Arthur was acting, all their respect for her brother would be lost. It wasn't his fault that he was intolerable and incorrigible when tired or drunk. 

"Nooooooooooo..." He groaned. "An hour and a half." 

She shook her head. "You will arrive in less than an hour. That's final." She ended the call before he could object, gently placing the handset on the receiver. She exhaled, watching the micronations gather in a circle on the grass. 

They looked just like the colonies, young and full of energy. That was a period in her life that she wouldn't go back to for a while, but looking back at the good moments, like the picnics or trips to the local towns for food supplies, her heart ached. She wouldn't repeat that time, no, the suffering world-wide was too great, so she'd just have to enjoy the memories that were worth being fondly remembered.

She sipped her tea daintily and just watched the kids talk. It was considered an old lady sport nowadays, but internally, she _was_ an old lady. She just sat there, draining her cup with periodic sips and watching their antics. Occasionally, she heard footsteps of people walking through the hallway behind her, but she was never bothered. Alice preferred it that way. 

She sat there until a cab pulled into her line of sight. Had it already been a whole hour? 

She checked her wristwatch, and indeed, it had. Odd, how fast time could pass. 

Alice gathered up her cup and saucer, taking them down to the kitchen and waiting at the front door to greet her brother. The micronations chased after the cab, yelling things only they understood. Jett joined her side and waited beside her for the cab to stop. Amelia, Matthew, and Jane were nowhere in sight. 

"Good, he finally decided to show his face." Jett grinned. "The old codger's gotta come visit us sometimes. You get lonely when the only regular visitor is Zea."

A head of messy dishwater-blonde hair poked out as the cab door opened. "I heard that. Don't think I can't tell when you're bad mouthing me, Jacob Alexander."

Jett rolled his eyes. "It's been Jett for the past few decades, _Art._ Get with the times!" 

Leslie played with her hair. "Your name was Jacob?"

"Yes, it was." Alice affirmed. "But that was a while ago. He's his own nation now, and Jett's allowed to choose his own name." She shot a look at her brother, who mumbled something tiredly and ignored her. 

"I wanna be named Mud! Jett, can my name be Mud now?" 

Arthur paid the cab driver and watched them leave. "Let's end the conversation there. I'm bloody tired and I don't want to talk about jets and mud."

Bumbunga popped her head out from a window. "Uncle Arthur is no fun!"

"Meanie!"

"Uncle Artie's a poop-head!" 

The children echoed off of each other, creating a resonating cacophony that made it impossible to focus. Alice escorted her brother inside as Jett rounded up the rowdy children, scolding them for being so rude(or complimenting them for being little buggers. She wasn't sure.) Setting a quick pot of tea up, Alice ran through the events of the past days in an efficient manner as her brother tried to stay awake. 

"Amelia and Matthew have both agreed, and it seems like Jett will as well." 

Arthur rubbed his eyes and mumbled something as he sipped his coffee. Alice waited patiently for him to speak properly, watching the children outside in the meanwhile. There really was something fascinating about their energy. 

"...That'd make four, right? So we would have one in each house?"

She patted him on the back. "Yes."

"Mm, good." He grumbled, effectively ending the conversation. The two siblings just sat in the silence as they had only a few nights ago. Only the time and location was different. 

Speaking of time, they would need Australia to make his decision swiftly. The flight would be leaving relatively soon, and he would need to pack up a small suitcase of supplies. Right then, it would be up to her to rally. She stood, leaving her brother to recover a bit, and walked out to the front garden. 

"Jett, are you coming or not? The plane is leaving within the next two hours." She had no time or patience to dawdle in making her point. Her cousin was swinging one of the micronations by the arms in big circles when she came out, and only until she finished her statement did he set the girl down. 

He said something in the girl's ear, which made her sprint away and left the two of them relatively alone. "Look, I would love to take a break, but between caring for Lu and the country and the micros, I don't thin-"

"What about Ngarra or the uh, other one? Kiera?"

"Kirra. They take care of the bush and such. I'm not gonna ask them to suddenly take over for me and watch over Melbourne and Sydney and the like." 

Jane's voice came from behind Jett. "Then you're gonna have to ask me." 

He turned to his sister. "Which I'm not going to do, especially not for a whole year. Janie, you have enough on your plate." 

"I don't think you understand." Jane countered. "I'm not asking you if you should go with Alice, I'm telling you. Get out and have some fun." 

Jett's face scrunched up in confusion. "But what abou-"

"I can handle it. If need be, I can ask Zea to babysit the micros for a bit. Besides, it'll be great. You get to travel off to rainy England for a year and I get to try managing the country on my own. If you can do it and still have time to care for Stevie, then I can too." Jane shoved a duffel bag in his arms. "Plus, you're already packed."

Alice watched the exchange with interest. Jane almost never told Jett what to do directly, instead going for dry remarks and sarcastic humor, a great contrast to his own juvenile comedy. She was all for Jane telling him to go, and proud of her cousin for picking up whatever sense of urgency Alice laid down. 

Still, Australia as a country was a bit strange. Alice had only seen the other two representatives once or twice before in her life, and usually it was brief and wordless. To her, it seemed like Jett and Jane were taking care of the whole country themselves, which wasn't impossible, but for a fully fledged nation, it was certainly difficult. And to leave everything just to Jane...could she handle it? The weight four people were supposed to bear on one's shoulders? 

The determination and passion blazing in Jane's eyes answered her question. "Indeed. It seems your mind is already made up then, is it not?"

Jett glanced between the both of them, a smile growing on his face. "You two would be terrifying if you worked together on everything."

"That's a yes then?" Jane's smile mirrored his own. 

"You bet it is. Thanks Janie. I'll repay you." He hugged her like he hugged everyone-that is to say, by squeezing the air out of your lungs. 

She hugged him back. "Your payment is that you write to me as often as possible. I don't want to be kept out of the loop, alright?"

"Alright."

Jett turned and faced Alice with an expression so excited it looked like it belonged on a child's face during Christmas. "What are we waiting for?"

-0-

The flight to London was anything but fun. England already had a dreadful headache and horrible case of jet lag, but Alice decided to pile on another unbearably long flight for the sake of efficiency. Amelia chatted loudly with any and every neighbor surrounding her, not at all put off by the whispers of "annoying" and "loudmouth" that he was certain she'd heard. 

Matthew and Jett had the issue of whether planes would allow small, possibly dangerous animals onto the place, so even though the usual tasteless tact of bribery and persuasion worked, it still held them up for a while at security. Thankfully, neither of the bears caused any sort of ruckus, but still, it was nerve racking. 

England didn't have much to remark about the quality of the flight or airline, especially since he spent the majority of the trip trying to catch up on lost sleep.

A proper nap was in order before he made any trip to Hogwarts, that was certain.

-0-

Ah, England. Home of constant rain, depression, and really ugly old buildings. Amelia could already feel the stiff, starched collars and tight leather shoes she had to wear when she was little, and she hated it. 

"Hey bro, mind holding my suitcase? I'm gonna take off my jacket real quick." She nudged Matthew with her elbow. They were standing outside the airport waiting to be picked up by Ollie, and the combined efforts of her childhood memories of uncomfortable clothing and the heat summer brought forced Amelia out of her retro jacket earlier than usual. 

Matthew shifted Kumajiro to sit on his hip and held her suitcase upright obligingly. "Its not even that hot. This is what, winter for the south?" 

"Oh, shut it. You wish your summers get this hot, frosty." She tied her jacket around her waist. "That's better. Anyways, thanks bud."

"I'm older than you."

She chuckled. "Sure you are. Anyways, doesn't include mentally."

"Will you two please stop? Your bickering is insufferable." Arthur groaned, practically hanging off of Alice. He looked worse than when he was hungover from that one drinking contest with Latvia.

A retort came to mind. "So is your attitude. But we can't get rid of that, can we?" Arthur's reaction was worth every word.

It was clear from the look on Jett's face that he was enjoying the witty banter. On the other hand, Steve the Koala looked ready to tear someone's larynx out. 

Not today, buckaroo. If anyone was gonna be tearing out larynxes, it'd be Ollie.

Speak of the devil, the strawberry blonde was in sight. His pastel blue van pulled up to the curb and parked so perfectly that performers would be jealous. 

"Good morning loves! How were the flights?"

Arthur stumbled into the backseat wordlessly and passed out almost instantly. Alice sat in the passenger seat, her reply too soft for Amelia to pick up. 

"I feel great, thanks." She said. In truth, she wanted to be at home watching crappy morning news and drinking coffee, but she had to uphold her end of the deal. Think about Brady. 

She climbed in and sat next to the snoozing old codger. Matt and Jett got the middle aisle, which was great because their bears got along just fine. "I'm doin' great, thanks." 

"I'm good." Matthew whispered last. Amelia rolled her eyes. the more nations present, the quieter he got. He always complained about not being noticed, but it was his fault in the first place.

What a dumbass. 

The ride was boring, but that didn't mean that Amelia wasn't on guard. She, along with everyone else in the car, was fully aware of what Ollie could do if his impulses said to. Falling asleep in the car was probably the worst choice Arthur could make, but then again, he'd been dealing with Ollie since the beginning. 

Meanwhile, Alice took the ride as a chance to fully debrief everything.

"Today, we will be departing for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at precisely 3 PM. Until then, Arthur and I will be performing several magical spells to ensure this mission is kept secret. Meaning, we will be changing the memories of every nation to believe that if you currently are a figurehead, they will believe you never were. For Matthew, they will believe it was always James. For Jett, they'll think it was Jane. And for Amelia, since you're incredibly loud, we will make them believe it was Ashlyn."

Amelia blinked. "You know Ash is like, the complete opposite of me, right?"

"We will be convincing Ashlyn herself that she acts like you."

A silent "Holy shit" passed through the car. 

"You can do that?" Matthew asked.

Hell, if time travel was possible, why wouldn't forced memory loss? Or rather, forced changed memories? Either way, it was possible, at least from what Amelia had experienced. 

Ollie laughed creepily(actually, it was his normal laugh, but it always sounded creepy). "They can do a lot of things that would be considered...unethical. There's a reason I never had access to magic."

The van was quiet for a while after that. No one dared speak until Alice continued. There really was no way to properly react to that. 

"As I was saying, yes, it is possible. Once that is done and your viewed importance in the world goes down significantly, we will be properly arranging it so you look like children. Olivia isn't here currently, but she will join the three of you as you become children. You will be expected to act like a 12 year old child for a full school year."

"That shouldn't be a problem, seeing as I live with plenty of kids around that age range." Australia nodded, stroking Steve's fur. 

"Precisely. Then, during the train ride, you will be taught proper wizard lingo. The three of you will be going as muggle-borns, meaning that you grew up around people who are not gifted with magic. That will be a perfect cover for why you wouldn't understand certain things or would react to events like an outsider. Olivia, since she has seen us perform magic several times, will be a half-blood, meaning she has one magical parent. She still may not understand everything wizardly, but a lot more than you three."

Matthew glanced at Amelia. "Um, so, why us three specifically? Sorry to interrupt." 

"Mm? Oh yes, I do need to get to that. Hogwarts has four "houses", each of which represents a certain variety of personality traits. Upon coming to Hogwarts for the first time, children are sorted into the house who they have the strongest personality traits of. Until they graduate, they will sleep in the same dormitories as their housemates, take the same classes as them, and participate in team events with them."

"So they're like fraternities and sororities in a way?" Amelia asked. She understood what Alice was getting at, but still, she wanted a comparison. 

"...I'll say a tentative yes. You will understand once we are there. As you will see, the four houses are as follows: Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, and Slytherin. Jett, you were chosen to go into the Gryffindor house, which embodies the traits bravery, loyalty, courageousness, adventurousness, being daring, and chivalry. When you are sorted, you ask for Gryffindor if possible."

"Right-o. Sounds like a plan to me." 

"Next, we have Ravenclaw. Initially, we had selected Amelia, but upon further consideration, it was clear that Matthew was made for it. Ravenclaws prioritize wisdom, intelligence, creativity, cleverness, and knowledge. They often seek for a more logical and safe approach to situations than charging head first."

Matthew smiled gently. "That does sound like me."

"We thought so. We selected Olivia for Hufflepuff, which is a house that prides itself over valuing hard work, dedication, fair play, patience, and loyalty. Hufflepuffs are generally the most amiable of the houses. And lastly, we have Amelia for Slytherin."

"I've always liked snakes. Like there was this one really cool black rattlesnake I saw in Arizona-" Amelia was cut off by a disapproving look from Alice. "Sorry. Continue."

"Slytherin cares about being cunning, prideful, resourceful, ambitious, intelligent, and determined. Slytherins love to be in charge and crave leadership, and often will do whatever is needed to succeed. Amelia, your ambition alone would've landed you in Slytherin, but combined with your pride, determination, and intelligence, this house was practically made for you." 

Amelia mulled it over. "Yep, it does. Al wouldn't belong in Slytherin, he sounds more like one of those Griffin peeps, but yeah, I'm made for it."

Ollie nudged Alice. "Don't forget to talk about the reputation it has~!" He sung a bit too gleefully. 

"I was getting to that. Amelia, while the rest of the houses are regarded as perfectly reasonable houses to be a part of, Slytherins are viewed often time to be the least desirable of the houses unless you are a legacy or devoted to, well, evil deeds. There is a myth that has been around for centuries that all wizard evil-doers are from Slytherin."

She knew there had to be a catch. But being part of group that had a reputation for being evil wasn't the worst. She'd just prove everyone wrong and get rid of that stupid rumor. "I'm cool with that. I like challenges." 

Alice nodded. "Ambitious indeed. Now, please, make yourselves comfortable in our home for the time being, just don't go into the basement unless myself or Arthur gives explicit instruction to do so." 

Amelia wondered why she switched topics so suddenly, only realizing a moment later that it was because the ride was over. She looked over at her sleeping cousin and poked him until he woke up. "Good morning sleepy head. You're home." 

He shooed her away with his hand and closed his eyes. Welp, she tried. Amelia couldn't be blamed for when Oliver tried waking him up again but with spiders. 

She climbed out of the van and stretched. What to do? 

The answer was obvious. 

Find out more about this wizarding world. If she was going in, she was going in deep.

-0- 

As Arthur was roused from his sleep and forced to help Alice with magical shenanigans in the basement, Jett, Olivia, Ollie, Matthew and Amelia played Tripoley. A board was made from an old square of fabric and a black marker, and pennies were substituted for poker chips. 

Three rounds in and Australia had not won a single penny back. All of the players had at least collected from having a heart face card or winning poker, but not him. He anted nine coins for the next round and took a peek at his cards. Three 6's, a pair of 8's, one four, a pair of kings, and one queen. He could make a full house! He pulled out his sixes and kings and waited for the poker round to begin. 

Amelia began with two chips in the pot. Australia saw her two. Matthew folded. Olivia saw Amelia's two and raised her two more, so Ollie folded. Amelia and Australia both saw Olivia's raise. 

"Show your cards." Ollie commanded. 

Australia laid out his own hand and looked at the other two hands shown. Amelia had a straight nine high, and

...

Goddammit. 

Olivia had a four of a kind. 

As the pinkette realized she'd won, a bright childish smile appeared. "I won!" She scooped the pot into her own collection cheerily. 

Right, he could still win. He put his poker hand back into his original hand and readied himself for Michigan Rummy. The winner of poker was the first to go, so he watched Olivia with careful eyes. 

She laid down a 3 of Spades, and in turn he laid down his 4 of Spades. If anyone had the 5 and 7, he'd be able to lay down his 6 and then 8. He doubted it'd get to his King of Spades. 

He waited for anyone to lay down the 5. No one did. 

"5 of Spades? Anyone?"

Matthew glanced at his own hand. "I think it was in the dummy hand."

Dang it. It was alright, he still could win. This was a good hand, he felt it. Plus, he was in control. The lowest card in his hand was the 6 of Spades, but he couldn't play the same suit. So 6 of Clubs it was. 

Amelia laid down the 7 and 8. Ollie did the 9. Matthew had the 10 and Jack. 

It stopped again, this time at the Queen with Matthew in control. He laid down a two of Diamonds, and Olivia slapped down her 3. Yet again, no one put down the 4. Olivia laid down the 3, 4, and 5 of Clubs, smirking at the fact that she a), had three cards left, and b), was still in control since the 6 of Clubs was already played. 

"Let's open the floodgates, shall we?" 

She placed down the 3 of Hearts. 

Ollie had the 4, Matthew had the 5, Australia had the 6, and Ollie had the 7. It stopped at 8, and so Ollie went on to put down a 2 of Spades. The 3 was already played, and because of that Ollie played the 10 of Hearts and collected the money from the spot on the board. 

Finally, if this went without a hitch, Australia would be able to at least collect money from three of the pots. 

Matthew laid down the Jack of Hearts and collected, and swiftly, Australia followed with both the Queen and King, collecting the money from each individual pot and the Marriage. Ollie ended the suit with his Ace, and started up again with the 7 of Spades. 

Australia glanced at Amelia, who was fuming. She hadn't been able to place down a card in a while. He empathized with her, having been in that position only a few minutes ago, but that didn't mean he was gonna stop playing to win. 

He put down the 8 and watched for whoever had the 9. He only had four cards left. 

Amelia out down the 9, and it was clear she was just relieved to get rid of any cards at all. But then, Olivia came out of nowhere and played the 10. Damn, she only had one more card. 

"Anyone have the Jack?" She asked coyly.

No one said anything. Fuck, she was going to win. 

Amelia played her last card, the 7 of Diamonds. 

"I'll take the Kitty, thank you, and remember, you must pay me for every card you have left~!" She smiled. 

Australia rolled his eyes and scooped four coins out of his pile and handed it over to her. No one was paying an incredibly high amount, but still, four cards left stung. 

"How do you do it?" He asked out of the blue. "Get close to winning or actually succeeding every time, I mean." 

Olivia pointed to herself. "Me? Oh, uh, it's mostly just luck."

Amelia shook her head and slid her payment across the table to Olivia. "That's bullshit. It's numbers and careful calculation. You played well, so don't go around saying your strategy was all luck."

"I dunno, compared to your utter _flop_ of a strategy, it may as well be." Olivia shot her a feline grin, daring the American to fight with her. 

"You bitch-"

Ollie tutted his tongue as he stood up and walked off to the kitchen. "I'm afraid that if you are to insist on fighting, you must do it outside." 

Good grief, he forgot how bad they acted around each other sometimes. Well, he didn't forget completely. The memory of James and Amelia pushing him into a frozen lake was still perfectly clear in his mind.

He watched as Amelia dragged Olivia outside so that she could roughhouse without angering Ollie. Matthew followed his gaze. 

"They never stop fighting, eh?"

Australia whistled for Steve. "Nope. I'm just surprised you haven't learned to block it out by now mate. Isn't it annoying?"

Matthew shrugged, collecting the cards on the table and shuffling them into a newly-arranged deck. "I guess. I usually just let them walk away and stay out of the splash zone."

"Scones?" Ollie walked back in, carrying a plate. 

"Did you make or tamper with them?" Australia narrowed his eyes.

"Maybe."

"No thank you, then. I'm not very hungry." Matthew repeated nearly the same sentence. 

Ollie paid their rejection no attention and went on his merry ol' way to terrorize children or knit explosives into sweaters. Honestly, Australia's guess was as good as any when it came to what Ollie did in his free time. 

The room fell silent as the two half-brothers sat in silence. Amelia and Olivia's screams were muffled by the window as the whirl of blonde hair and pink fabric rolled around on the grass with the ferocity of hormonal teenage girls. Australia stared at the mass for just a moment before tearing his eyes away. They'd be fine. 

"So, Ravenclaw. Putting aside Ally's assessment, which "house" do you think you belong in?" He did air-quotes around "house" for emphasis. They were more like personality groups than teams. 

Matthew stroked his polar bear thoughtfully. "Ravenclaw sounds accurate, but so does Hufflepuff. I like to think of myself as friendly and fair. You?"

"Gryffindor all the way. Ally was right on the nose about me. Guess you could put me in Slytherin, but Amy beats me out of there with her sheer ambition."

Matthew laughed. It was soft and gentle, like a summer breeze blowing off of the ocean. "Have you heard about the time Amelia tried to out-run a train?"

Steve walked into the room and climbed up into Australia's arms. "No, but please," He smiled and tried his best to imitate Arthur's accent. "Enlighten me."

For the next few hours, the two of them exchanged stories of themselves, their siblings, or just funny things they'd seen. From Amelia attempting to out run a train to Bruce trying to swallow Poland's horse whole, the stories ranged from concerning to impossible. 

"Mate, you're telling me that ol' Milen turns into a Yogurt Fairy? What the hell is a Yogurt Fairy?" 

Canada shrugged. "I'm the wrong person to ask. I heard it from lil Aurel when he was with Ivan at the last conference. I think the kid's planning on escaping Russia's house pretty soon, by the way. At least from the way he's been talking." The northern country stared out the window. 

Quietly, he added. "The USSR is barely holding itself together nowadays. Russia's losing more and more power and the nations held prisoner in his house will eventually be able to break free. It seems like that's all America can talk about recently." 

"Isn't that a good thing though? No more Cold War and having to worry about being nuked as America's neighbor? Ottawa isn't very far from the States. I mean, once Prussia broke down the Berlin Wall, it's just been one downward spiral for Russia." Australia rarely poked around in their politics-it was all too convoluted and messy and he had his own issues to deal with-but there was not a single nation out there who didn't at least know about Berlin and the USSR's decline.

Amelia barreled in through the door, sweating and covered in various bruises, cuts, and scratches. And was she...smoking? "FUCK THOSE COMMIES!" 

Apparently she didn't care about the fact that yes, her hair was partially on fire. She plopped herself down on the carpet and spread out all her limbs, resembling a starfish. "Whatcha talking about anyways? All I heard was Russia."

"You never change, do you?" Matthew sighed, leaning over and extinguishing the small flame with his fingertips. "Where's Olivia?"

"Sittin' in the front yard pouting because she knows I won." She paused. "Hold up-"

She sat up and eyed Australia and Matthew. "You two have just been chatting like magpies this whole time? Isn't that boring?"

He supposed it could seem so, but Matthew was an excellent conversationalist when he wasn't being drowned out by America's voice. "Nope. It's relaxing to just talk and not worry about politics."

"Well, you could say that everything we talk about is political, considering we are nations and therefore anything we say could be taken politically-" Amelia cut herself off. 

"-Anyways, yeah, I get it. But it's been literally hours." She flopped back onto the carpet dramatically. "Aren't you the least bit bored? Just a teeny-weeny-itsy-bitsy amount?"

"No." Both answered, overlapping. 

Amelia flipped onto her stomach. "Damn, y'all are a bunch of Grannies and I'm older than you." Her voice floated out from underneath the mop of blonde hair covering her head. 

"Then you're an idiot who's been fighting for, I dunno, a few hours nonstop over a card game?" Australia teased. 

"It was worth it!"

The two men shared a look, clearly trying not to laugh. 

For what it was, even though Australia lost every round of cards he played that day, it was a pretty solid way to spend an afternoon. As the sun reached its zenith in England, all of the light-hearted banter and talk from earlier that day would be exchanged with nervous excitement of what was to come.

-0-

It happened so easily that Olivia could've blinked and missed it. One moment, she was on the soft grass, staring up at the cloudy sky and waiting for her body to heal up after her fight with Amelia.

It was like...she'd gone from one dream to another. The rules of it were almost exactly the same, and so were the characters, but something was slightly different. The analogy wasn't quite right though. 

The change was more like...

It was like baking, actually. The core recipe was the same, but the way each ingredient was incorporated made a different result. If one were to reduce the butter needed later in the cookies to brown butter first, the result would be much different than if they just put the whole stick of plain butter. The results would both be cookies, but different flavours and possibly, textures. 

And if a person had only eaten the cookie with brown butter, they would assume that was just how cookies were made. But Olivia had tasted both cookies. 

She knew about the reality where Jett and Matthew were figureheads, and Amelia was the loud and rambunctious one. But she also knew about the reality where it was James and Jane who were the figureheads, and Ashlyn who was loud. 

Once she had the taste of it, she'd never forget. Before, she could only imagine, but after, she knew. 

She didn't know how she felt about the conflicting memories. It was annoying, because she knew the new ones were false, but her mind kept wanting to admit that they were true. The effects of magic, she supposed. 

She looked for the sun to gauge what time it was, feeling too lazy to go inside and check the clock. It had already passed its apex, so it had to be around 1 PM. Not too long until they had to leave for Scotland then. 

Muffled bits of conversation could be heard through the walls of the home, but Olivia didn't care enough to listen in and try to decode it. She was perfectly happy sitting outside on the grass. Nature...she couldn't quite explain it, but sitting in grass or among trees made her heal faster. 

To prove her point, a small purplish-blue bruise on her hand faded quickly as soon as she laid her arm down in the grass, the color retreating in front of her eyes. Olivia sighed, pulling herself up and grimacing as her body begged for her not to. Even with advanced healing, Amelia's punches were not something to take lightly. She opened the front door and walked over to the other nations gathered in the living room. 

"Did you feel it?"

Matthew nodded while Amelia and Jett both tried to answer verbally. Amelia ended up being the one who spoke. "Yep. It feels...weird. Like, I remember being me, duh, but also I remember acting like Ashlyn." She unwrapped a square of bright pink bubblegum and popped it into her mouth. 

Alright, that was similar to her feeling. "And you two, you are still the figureheads, correct?" She asked. 

"Yes. I can still feel the heartbeat of my people, the water rushing through my rivers and the winds blowing through my skies. Only the mind has changed." Jett said, pausing as he came upon a new thought. "Hey, will Janie even remember why I left?"

Good question, one that she didn't have the answer to. They could try to ask Ollie, but he was just as poorly attuned to magic as she was, and Artie and Ally were busy downstairs. 

"I don't think so, but I'm also not certain about my answer." She replied finally. Jett accepted her answer with just a simple nod.

"That's alright. Janie's strong and can handle herself. If she needs to, she can always rely on Ngarra or Kirra if things become rough. I'm..." He paused. "...Never mind. We're supposed to be leaving in just a little over 90 minutes from now, so if you want to take a nap, you should get to it."

"I think Artie's the one who needs the nap." Amelia smirked. "The old geezer looked miserable the whole trip back."

Matthew stood up and stretched. "If no one wants to rest, then maybe we should treat Amelia and Olivia so they don't look awful when we arrive. Oh, and make some sandwiches for the train ride."

Amelia gave him a look. "I'm not a colony anymore, Mattie. I can take care of myself." 

"I'm just stating what I think our priorities should be. You don't have to listen." He walked past her to the powder loo, where the bandages and ointments were conveniently located. Olivia followed without question, more than eager to feel better. Out of the corner of her eye, she watched Amelia begrudgingly stand up and follow. 

Matthew was excellent at dressing wounds. He was quick yet delicate, his fingers nimble enough to rival a master seamstress's. In no time at all, Olivia was properly bandaged and on her way to recovery. She'd probably be better by the time they got to Hogwarts, Matthew estimated. 

Amelia was a different story, however. At every instance Matthew tried to fix her up, she reacted like a cat does to a bath. Long story short, she was acting like a child. 

"No! That stings!" 

Matthew rolled his eyes. "Do you want to suffer from infections again?"

"Then be more gentle, asshole!"

Yeah, she was acting like she always did. Even with her apparent memories of acting like Ashlyn(who never complained when being bandaged), her own personality shone through. Olivia watched the two blondes argue, leaning against the door and just waiting for the surprisingly hilarious exchange to be over. 

A knock was what cut it off. 

Olivia opened the door to a completely bedraggled-looking Artie, with dark eye bags that were larger than a raccoon's. "We're ready for you all."

"Holy shit dude, are you okay?" Amelia shoved Matthew into the wall and walked away. "You look like hell."

"Just hurry up so I can rest before we leave. Jett and Alice are waiting." He grumbled. Amelia followed with no complaint, a loose bandage trailing behind her like a ribbon of cut flesh. 

Olivia helped Matthew up. "Are you alright?"

"This feels like a butterfly kiss compared to whenever we play baseball. Let's hurry up for the sake of Arthur's sanity."

"Agreed." 

He walked with her down into the basement, stepping down the old stones as they descended into the earth. While the house above changed with the times, the basement stayed the same after centuries. The stones were well worn by years of use, and the wooden doors keeping whatever magical creatures Arthur and Amelia conjured inside stayed strong and steadfast, the wood protected from rotting by magic. 

Olivia pushed open the doors and walked into the room. She didn't spend much time down here mostly because it was, quite frankly, depressing and she also had no magic to practice in the first place. After today, that would change. 

"All of you, step into the circle and hold hands. Do not move no matter how hard the wind blows, and no matter what, do not open your eyes until I say so." 

Jett set down Steve. "Is it alright for him to be in here, or should he leave?"

"I'd prefer if he and Kumajiro were out of the room. I don't want them to possibly mess anything up." Alice said without looking up from the book in her hands. The bears obeyed and walked out, chatting like old friends. 

"I'm a bit nervous." Olivia admitted to Matthew. "I haven't been this small in centuries."

He stepped into the circle and held out his hand. "We'll be small together. There's nothing to worry about." 

"It's "ah-bout", like "gout". Not "aboot"." Amelia teased, grabbing his other hand after only a moment of doubt. Something on her cousin's face told Olivia that she was doing this as a form of proving bravery, or something similar. Olivia followed her cousin's lead and waited for Jett to close up the circle. 

When everything was ready, and she closed her eyes as Arthur instructed, Olivia focused on her heartbeat. It was strong and a bit quick, possibly from the anxiety of what was to come. She could feel the rush of blood to and from her fingertips, and if she concentrated, she could feel Jett and Matthew's pulses as well, through their hands. 

Matthew sent her a little silent squeeze. 

_"It'll be alright."_ The squeeze said. _"Don't worry, I'm here for you."_

She squeezed back as the chanting began. At first, the words were slow and deliberate, but as they quickened, the room began to feel warm. 

It went from warm to hot quickly. Soon, Olivia felt like she was sweating out of every pore and her skin felt loose and baggy. But that was only the beginning of the discomfort. Next were the cramps, when her internal organs were screaming as pressure pushed on them to become smaller and smaller. Her bones shrunk, and her nerves felt like they were electrocuted. She wanted to open her eyes so badly, to beg for it to stop, but she bit her lip and squeezed her eyelids together as much as she could. 

And then, it all stopped. 

Was it over? She...didn't feel very different? Maybe lighter? Her clothes felt like they were going to slip off any moment, at least. 

"It is safe to open your eyes. Please take care to properly adjust to your new size." Alice instructed. 

Olivia opened her eyes immediately. The first thing that she noticed was how everything was slightly taller. Not by much, but it was enough to be slightly jarring. 

"Did it work? HOLY FUCK, MY VOICE!" Amelia squeaked. "Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers. No, why do I have an accent? Fuck."

"We reverted you to your forms of when you were physically 12. Your hair cuts, voices, and bodies are all from that time." Arthur explained tiredly, handing out clothes. "Here, these should do for now. I completely forgot to tell you to pack clothes for your younger physiques, so we'll have to get by on your old clothes until we can buy proper wizarding attire."

Olivia lifted the dress she'd been given. It wasn't hers, but it was still pretty. 

"Is this dress Seychelles's? I mean, Michelle's." 

Matthew glanced at her dress and then his own slacks and shirt. "I sink so. Zese ahre mine, I cahn tell. I'm surprised zey've lasted ziss long weethout moths getteeng to zem." 

"Oh god, Matthew's a frenchie again." Amelia complained. "And why do I have to wear this frilly ass piece of shit? Give me some real clothes, like Mattie's!"

Arthur rubbed his temples. "Alice, please deal with this. I need to rest." 

"Understood." She waited for Arthur to leave the room before giving Amelia a curt and stern, "No."

"Why not? It's not like I have tits anymore! Plus, tons of girls wear pants nowadays."

Leaving Amelia to argue with Alice over her clothing choices, Olivia, Jett, and Matthew went upstairs to change. Once she started moving, the realness of it set in. 

She was smaller, and if what they said about hair was the truth, then she had a bath to get to. There was no way she was going to wear 14th century hair in the modern day. Jett's brown hair was sticking out in nearly every direction, and the little bandaid he always wore across his nose was gone. Matthew just looked like a mini France. Add a blue cape and there would be no difference. 

"I always hated these starched collars." Jett commented, pulling on a white shirt. "I say we try to buy some t-shirts if we get the opportunity. Remember, none of us can legally drive or drink anymore in public." 

Matthew slipped on his leather shoes. "I nearly fahrgot ahbout zat. Zank you fahr ze remindair." 

Michelle's old dress was very comfy for what it was. And it was pink, so that was a definitive bonus. "Toodles, boys. I've got an appointment with the bathroom. My hair is an utter disaster."

"You can say that again." Amelia grumbled, walking up from behind them, wearing her old dress. "It looks like shit." 

"Says the one in the Mother Goose bonnet." Jett teased. Amelia punched him in the arm. 

Olivia thought about it. Amelia needed a good wash and trim anyways, and it could be fun. "...Okay, Amelia. Follow me. Let's see what we can do with our hair in the time we have."

Surprisingly, she followed without complaint. 

Maybe this form had more benefits than she initially thought.

-0-

The rush to get out of the house was something Canada rarely experienced modern-day. Usually, it was America crashing into his house and demanding that he go to some sort of sporting event with one of them because one of the other Americas weren't available. But this was different. 

"Come on, the train won't be waiting for us. It leaves at 3 no matter what." 

The group of nations were speed walking through King's Cross, dragging suitcases that now held Arthur's textbooks and prep materials rather than the clothes they'd originally held. Kumaoji was much heavier than before(possibly because his muscles were that of a child's now), so Arthur was carrying him and Steve in exchange for the two nations dragging his suitcases. 

Amelia and Olivia were trying desperately to keep up in their dresses, but the mix of not being adjusted to their bodies and long dresses left them tripping left and right. Amelia's swearing was almost...metronomic. 

"We're looking for Platform 9. It shouldn't be far from here." Arthur huffed, trying to keep pace with the children. "Olivia, time check!" 

"2:49!" She shouted from the back. 

"Bugger, alright. Come on, hurry up!" 

Canada urged his legs to move faster, but they felt like those of a newborn deer. He took a momentary break just to catch his breath when he spotted it. "Zhere! Platform 9!" 

"Brilliant. Alright, keep your eyes on me and follow without question. We'll be walking through a portal of sorts, but it's disguised. So long as we move quickly no one will notice." Arthur's pace sped up with no regard to the four people trailing him with the physical abilities of nonathletic children. 

Like Alfred, actually. As much as Canada loved his brother, he had no respect for those who couldn't keep up with him athletically. Amelia at least tried to wait for you to catch up(usually she gave up on waiting from impatience, but still). Canada shook the thought out of his mind. Right now, he needed to focus on moving and making sure he didn't lose sight of Arthur. 

He was glad he snapped out of it when he did, because only seconds after Canada refocused on Arthur, the Brit made a sharp turn and walked straight into a brick pillar. No collision, just a seamless fusion with the bricks. 

"...I...Portal?" Amelia gasped once she caught up. 

Jett poked it, letting his fingertip go into the brick. "I guess. Who's first?"

Olivia walked straight through with no question. There was no noise, no shimmer, nothing. Like she was walking straight through a projection. Her hand poked out and gestured to them. 

" _Come on, it's safe,_ " The hand seemed to say. Jett grabbed it and was dragged in soundlessly. 

Amelia screeched. "Hell no. I am not going into a wall. Nuh-uh."

"Ze others ahre waiting. We've gaht to hurry." Canada urged. "Please. I'll lead you een ahnd. You cahn keep your eyes closed eef you wahnt."

"Nope. I was already done when I fucking time traveled. Now I'm in a stupid-ass kid's body and you're telling me to walk into a wall? No way. I quit. This whole thing is bullshit."

She spoke so quickly that Canada barely caught any of it, but her position on the issue was clear. Canada heaved a sigh. "Guess I'm going to hahve to do eet ze hard way zenn."

He grabbed her wrist and ran in, dragging a screaming Amelia behind him. 

-0-

The utter nerve. Between the fucking uncomfortable ass dress with its stupid lace and stupid ribbons and stupid 50 million layers of fucking white undergarments and Artie's bullshit magic, Matthew's dumbass decision to drag her into a _magical portal_ was the icing on top of the cake. 

"YOU ASSHOLE!" 

But there was nothing she could do. Matthew-he didn't deserve to be called Mattie right now-caught her off guard in that microscopic window of time and now she was at the mercy of his stupidity. For all they knew, the portal would strip her apart atom by atom like Mike TV in Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory and she'd be all disfigured afterwards. 

Or worse, she'd just die. Not like, haha I died and can come back like a cool person dead, but Ancient Rome level dead.

"...Amy, snahp out of eet. Zey're waiteeng." 

"Huh?" She wasn't dead? She was...standing in the station. How in the world...?

Matthew was still holding her hand. "Zee? Hahrmless. Come on, let's go befahre ze train leaves."

She could only muster a weak nod. What the hell was she getting into, really? Her body felt like she was on the verge of a migraine and also about to faint, but combined. Matthew led her onto the train and helped her sit down one a seat in the booth Arthur chose. 

"Do you need some water? I have some in the suitcase." Jett asked. Did she really look that bad? It was just some form of shock. 

Something in her gut told her to run away from everything surrounding her. That it was wrong. Dangerous. A thing to fear. 

Weakly, she whispered, "Yes please." Maybe she was just dehydrated from the magic body shrinking. Jett handed her a bottle and she drank it all. She missed the way the water in California tasted. 

"Thanks. I think that did the trick!" She smiled brightly and handed Jett the now-empty bottle. His and Matthew's concern faded instantly, replaced with relief. But the truth was that she didn't feel better at all. 

The feeling of dread only grew as the train announced its departure and began to move. 

If it wouldn't go away on its own, she'd distract herself enough to forget about it. A nap, maybe. Dreams were always a good way to calm down and relax. Unlike humans, nations didn't really experience what they regarded as nightmares and dreams. 

They saw things when they slept, but it was...less organic? It was like you were looking at a T.V. and you could see a collection of shorts that just consisted of your citizen's experiences that day. It could be something boring, like a mother telling her child no at a supermarket, it could be something heartwarming, like an old person reading stories to their grandchildren, or it could be, well, unsavory. Drug deals. Murders. Robberies. All of them had to only be little snippets, but they were enough to understand what was going on. And if you were worried about your people, the best way was to get a read on the panic levels through your dreams. 

And with the oncoming year out of state, something from home was needed. 

"Hey guys, mind if you keep it down? I'm gonna try to take a quick nap during the ride. If there's a chance to buy chocolate, do it and save it for me to eat later." 

Arthur didn't even try to object. "That's an excellent idea. If you wish to talk, there are other compartments on the train. We'll need rest, knowing how Hogwarts works." 

Olivia played with the magic bracelet Alice gave her before they left. It was silver with an amber stone woven inside the delicate filigree. According to her cousin, it contained nearly all of Alice’s magic. Amelia called bullshit. "Um, how do I make sure that I don't accidentally use Ally's magic?" 

Arthur held open his palm. "The only way to ensure you don't is for me to hold onto it for now. Once I'm more awake and can think properly, then I can teach you how to control when and how you summon it." 

"Oh, alright." Olivia unclasped it and dropped the bracelet into his palm. "I think I'm going to go explore for a bit then. Does anyone else want to come?"

Jett got up and followed her out, Steve walking quickly after him. The cabin was silent, and soon, Amelia fell asleep. 

-0-

She was in a field of corn. A murder of crows was gathered nearby, squawking and flying around something on the ground. The sun was bright and warm, and the sky a soft watercolor blue. She was in Iowa, to be more specific. 

Amelia walked towards whatever the crows were surrounding, unsure if she should be worried about what she would find. A rotting corpse of an animal? 

She flashed to a new spot before she could get a good look at the fallen body, but it looked like a dog with the little glimpse she had gotten. 

Now she was in Texas, sitting in Galveston on the beaches. Some kids ran by in swimsuits, the tallest of the bunch catapulting lumps of wet sand at the younger children. The mother sat on the beach sunning herself and reading a trashy romance novel that middle-aged women seemed to collect solely for the purpose of reading them on beaches. The father was busy playing with his youngest, helping her bury his foot. 

She didn't even take a step before she flashed again, now to the top of a building in...was this Vermont? Yes, it had to be. A girl was yelling at her college-aged boyfriend for cheating on her on a darkened suburban street. Amelia winced. The boy was trying in vain to win back his girlfriend's trust, but it was already far too broken. 

"I wish ya the best, bud. Maybe next time you'll stay faithful." Amelia whispered as she felt herself slip away into another flashback. 

She was...

Holy shit, this was Brady's neighborhood. The boys were playing baseball like usual. Amelia ran as fast as she could over to Brady and inspected his numbers. Good, they were the same as she left them. He was waiting to bat, and looking at the scoreboard, his team wasn't doing too hot. 

"I'll be back, I promise. It's just a year. Hold on, until then. Then we can play some more baseball-"

He looked right at her. "You promise?"

She stepped back. This was...no. This was supposed to be a snippet of reality she observed, like a ghost. 

But Brady was looking right at her. 

-0-

Author's Notes!   
  
_**Hi everyone! Exams are officially over for me, so expect more frequent updates. As usual, lets start this with giving thanks to all the wonderful reviewers, shall we?**_  
  
 ** _First, huge thanks to Respire-Sodastone who left a whopping FIVE comments on this work in one sitting. Seriously, your reviews were so fun to read. Your critique is incredibly valid and I'll be trying my best to listen to it for future chapters. Seriously, kudos to you!_  
  
** _ **Next, thank you to twashcat360 for your reliable commentary, Janelle Evergreen for her lovely Starkid shout out, and PanWithNoPlan for your excellent observation about Ilvermorny. You guys are seriously awesome!**_

_**Finally, love to everyone who's decided to follow this story! It means the world whenever you favorite/give kudos, or follow.** _   
  
_**Now that that's done, huge thank you to my two betas who've given me ideas about the Christmas special, amazing discussions, valid critique, and just being awesome gals. The server is small, but I feel so happy whenever either one of you come online and talk with me.** _

_**This chapter was...I wouldn't say grind, more that it took a lot longer than expected. I had everything up to the Tripoley scene written out, but then exam week hit and I went on a family vacation. Needless to say, I am back and ready to go. With nothing else to do during quarantine, chapters should come out more consistently. If there's any delay, its usually because of real life, which takes priority.** _   
  
_**Anyways, I'm happy to have this chapter done and I'm already working on V. I know I said Hogwarts would be this chapter, but it was already reaching 9000 words and I decided to cap it. Didn't want to delay it even more.** _   
  
_**Remember, if you want to beta, talk, or just hang out, you can contact me via email(those2peeps at gmail.com) or through discord, where I'll be Fluff#0929.** _

_**Love you all so, so much, and I wish you the best week ever!  
** _

_Msperfectsheep_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Reference: 
> 
> Mains:   
> Amelia Elizabeth Jones: Nyo!America  
> Arthur Kirkland: England  
> Jacob Alexander "Jett" Papalya: Australia  
> Matthew Jean Williams: Canada  
> Olivia "Vee" Kirkland: 2p!Nyo!England
> 
> Other(Varies per chapter):  
> Alice "Ally" Kirkland: Nyo!England  
> Jane Papalya: Nyo!Australia  
> Leslie Papalya: Gay and Lesbian Kingdom  
> Bumby: Bumbunga  
> Lucy "Lu" Papalya: Aeterna Lucina  
> Ngarra: 2p!Australia  
> Kirra: 2p!Nyo!Australia  
> Steve "Stevie": Jett's Koala  
> Oliver "Ollie" Kirkland: 2p!England  
> Brady Kaminski: Amelia's baseball friend from LA  
> James Williams: 2p!Canada  
> Ashlyn Jones: 2p!Nyo!America  
> Alfred "Al" Jones: America  
> Bruce Papalya: Independent State of Rainbow Creek  
> Milen Hinova: Bulgaria  
> Aurel Popescu: Moldova  
> Michelle Payet: Seychelles


	5. V

_Thith'r art oth'r ways to dispatch a nation though. Thou doth wanteth naught oneth of 'em to confound the oth'r, although yond is the easiest waie._

_Anoth'r waie to confound a nation is to confound the people. This wast proven by sev'rall accounts of nations fading aft'r their people hath changed. Someth did turn ento humans and and beganeth to age, liketh those gents'd been an ageless statueth hith'rto. Theie hath lived out their liveth 'i peaceth and eventuallie kicked the bucket, returning to the earth from which theie w'reth b'rn._

_Yet someth just fad'd. Naie human life, nay retirement. Theie dissolved, and nought of 'em._

_Mineth l'rd wishes to did rid himself of oneth of theseth nations, yet mayst that gent successfullie confound 't?_

_Onlie timeth shalt saie to._

-Excerpt from Mysterious and Inexplicable Madnesses, written by Unknown. Published, 1531

-0-

While Matthew, Amelia, and Arthur fell asleep in the train car, Australia and Olivia explored the magical train. So far, it looked like a pretty standard, yet well-kept train, with chocolate brown wooden paneling, spotless glass, and clean upholstery. The sconces on the wall were a bit cheesy in Australia's opinion, but it fit the whole classy vibe the train went for.

"How long do you think it'll take for them to fall asleep?" he asked out of the blue. He'd rather talk than walk in silence, after all.

Olivia peered into another empty cabin. "Mmm...I'll say four minutes. You?"

"I'll go for five. Mattie didn't seem as tired." He ran his tiny fingers across the smooth wood, cringing at how ugly his fingernails looked. He may have been teased for being the most wild-attuned of them, but he was also raised by Alice. Dirty, scraggly fingernails bothered him but being covered from head to toe in dust didn't, for some odd reason.

Olivia mimicked his movement. "Oh, that's just Mattie. He pretends like he isn't tired, but you leave him alone and he's out like a light. It's kinda cute. Oh look, there's someone!"

She looked to the left, where a man with light brown hair styled like João's was reading a book on the Second World War, clearly interested in the story. Australia usually would leave a man like that to his own devices, but Vee had no such reservations.

She grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward to the cabin, slamming open the door in the process. "Hello!"

The man yelped at the sudden greeting, dropping his book. "Goodness gracious me, hello to you two!"

He held his hand over his heart and used the other to pick up the book.

"Sorry for scaring you, sir," Australia apologized.

The bespectacled man shook his head. "It's no bother, really. How are you children?"

Vee invited herself right into the cabin and plopped herself down across from the man. "I'm doing well! I'm really excited to see Hogwarts!"

Australia stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do. Should he leave her to chat? Should he stick around and ask what the man was doing on the train, seeing as he was, so far, the only other person they'd seen?

"Are you now? Well, my dear, I'm sorry to disappoint, but the start of the term isn't for another month."

Australia tentatively sat down next to Vee. The man didn’t appear to mind. Nations often said Australia was wild and had very little reservations, but that was different around humans. He was more polite, especially in this form. It was basic social etiquette for children to show adults respect and currently, he was physically a child and would have to act like one.

Olivia just went on with the conversation. "Oh, I know. My uncle's the new History of Magic teacher though, and so me and my cousins are coming along."

Australia stared at his cousin. This information was new to him. A month before? History of Magic? Either he hadn't been paying attention at the right times, or Alice skimmed over some info.

Sitting in on this conversation was definitely worth it, Australia decided. Even if he was posing as a...Mughal? No, that was the name of an empire. Moggle? That was closer, but still not right. Either way, he was posing as someone who'd never experienced magic in their life until now, but that didn't mean he had to go in completely blind.

"Your uncle, you say? What's his name?" The man placed the book to the side and focused on the two of them fully.

"Uncle Artie,” she answered simply. "Oh, you mean his full name. Arthur Kirkland. I'm Olivia, by the way, and this is my lame cousin Jett."

Good move. Playing dumb was Olivia's specialty. Almost no one but Ollie could tell when she was faking unless they were in on it as well. Australia waved awkwardly at the man, exactly like how Gary did when he met strangers. "Hi."

The man looked surprised. "You don't sound English. Are you from...let me guess, Australia, right?"

"Yes, sir. There's no school of magic down there though, so he's staying with my family for his education." The lie came out of Vee's mouth before he could even answer. She gave him a quick glance that said, _"I'll do the talking. Just listen for now."_ Then again, it was Olivia, so that glance could've been completely unintentional.

Australia just nodded. "That's right. I was a bit nervous about being the only exchange student there, but then I heard my other cousins, two of them aren't really my cousins blood wise but through marriage, are coming too." He said in one big breath.

The man blinked at the flood of information the two of them gave. "...That sounds exciting. I'm Professor Andy Toncinens, it's a pleasure. I'm the new Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts this year."

That was the word, muggle. Australia repeated the word mentally a few times. Rather than being excited, Olivia frowned a bit. "Muggle Studies? But muggles are so boring. They don't even have magic."

"Have you ever thought of how that may be a good thing? Here, look.” He showed them the contents of his book, with diagrams of machines. “Witches and wizards have relied on magic for transportation for so long. Magic for medicine. Magic for locating missing items. But not muggles. They started with nothing and managed to build machines that are sometimes superior to what the wizarding world has!"

The more he spoke, the better feel Australia had of Professor Toncinens's personality. He could easily pass for an engineering enthusiast, or possibly even a science teacher for younger children. Meanwhile, Olivia did a fantastic job of prodding the Professor in just the right places for him to show this personality. People called Antonio manipulative sometimes, but he was nothing compared to her.

Olivia swung her legs, looking rather bored. "Meh. They can't apparate or use portkeys. Sure, airplanes are cool looking or whatever, but it's not fast enough to be efficient."

Professor Toncinens looked shocked. "You know what airplanes are?"

"Of course. I grew up in the muggle world for the most part. My mom's a witch though. And my dumb cousin is a muggle-born." She pulled some sweets out of her pocket (Australia did NOT want to know how long they'd been there or what was inside of them) and began to munch.

"I'm not dumb," he said, slightly insulted, even if he knew it was a cover. "I've just never learned about any of this magical stuff."

The professor shook his head. "No, no, no. That's excellent. Tell me, do you know who Adolf Hitler is?"

"Of course I do. Bloody bloke kept trying to destroy several ethnic groups all over Europe, led the world into World War II, and did a bunch of other terrible stuff!" Olivia ranted, crossing her arms. "And he tried to sink England, can't forget that. Bloody air raids!"

"Don't forget the Third Reich," Australia added, partially still reeling from hearing Olivia curse. 

The two of them bounced off of each other, listing anything and everything pertaining to Adolf Hitler or World War II. Professor Toncinens's face grew more and more perplexed as they went on, like he couldn't fathom two 12-year-olds talking about history in-depth. When he saw an opening in the conversation, he took it.

"How much else do you know about the muggle world?"

The two of them shared a look.

"Uh...everything?" Australia tried.

Toncinens's face lit up as if Australia told him it was his birthday and Christmas at the same time, and Australia regretted his response instantly.

The barrage of questions and notepad came out only seconds later. "What is the purpose of the internet? Why are telephones in nearly every house? Why do muggles each want their own car when there are trains and the Tube?" and so on. Olivia tried to answer the majority of them, but gave Australia a few so it wouldn't seem like she was purposefully trying to cover for him. The utter excitement this man had for the simplest of machines baffled Australia. If he loved the "muggle" side of society so much, why not live in it?

"Excuse me for interrupting, but why do wizards feel like they need to hide, especially if their magic can do the amazing stuff Vee told me about?"

Toncinens pursed his lips, trying to come up with an answer. "I suppose it would be because then all they'd do is demand for us to use our magic to help them."

"But...isn't it selfish not to help them? If you can heal broken bones with a quick tap or tell what drink is poisoned, then so many more people wouldn't be dead," Australia argued.

The professor sighed. "Think of it like this. Muggles take advantage of those with more abilities than they have. They poke and prod and ask questions similar to yours. Us wizards just want to live peacefully without being guilted into having to spend every waking minute helping others. It is a bit selfish I suppose, but it's what keeps us safe and happy. Plus, muggles often fear what they don't understand."

Australia stood. This was ridiculous. Sure, the man was well intentioned, but he had no idea what he was talking about. Olivia shot him a glare but he ignored it. "Everyone _—_ no, every living _thing—_ fears what it doesn't understand. It's how they survive. Wizards should thank muggles for their contributions, because without them you wouldn't have metallurgy for cauldrons, or steam-engines for trains. The least you can do is help them out."

"Son," Professor Toncinens said, placing his hand on Australia's shoulder. "You'd make an excellent speech writer. I understand your point, but you're preaching to the wrong person. Maybe when you're older you can bring it up with the Ministry."

What an ass. He was talking down to him, and his words were as false as Australia's appearance. He couldn't bring himself to continue debating, because he didn't want a kid to win an argument against him. Australia scowled.

"Maybe. Vee, I'm gonna go walk around a bit, alright?"

She nodded. "Alright."

He threw open the cabin door and walked out. Were all wizards like this? Were they so full of themselves that they couldn't think of those who couldn't use magic? Or was it just the teacher who claimed to care so much about said magic-less people?

He was so wrapped up in angry thoughts that he nearly ran straight into a snack cart. He stopped just in time before the woman pushing the cart had to swerve. "I'm sorry! I didn't see where I was going."

The old lady looked at him innocently, her stare a bit empty. "Anything from the trolley, dear?"

It was filled to the brim with colorful packaged snacks that looked tempting, but Australia already had packed snacks and sandwiches from England's place. "No thank you, Miss...? I'm sorry, what's your name?"

One of England's citizens probably, since he couldn't see her numbers and her accent was clearly from around here.

She blinked and stared. "I've forgotten."

"What?"

She smiled, but it had no meaning. "I don't remember my name. I haven't used it in so long..."

"Oh." He met people like her before, ones who didn't remember or have a name. "Well, my name's Jett. Is there anything you want me to call you by?"

"Anything you'd like, dear."

He tried thinking up a name. Millie didn't exactly fit. Neither did Victoria.

"How about Henrietta?" That was a British enough name.

The old lady's smile became genuine. "That's a beautiful name. Thank you. For that, have a chocolate frog."

She gave him a purple-packaged dessert. "I'll look forward to seeing you again."

"Same here, Ms. Henrietta."

She winked at him before continuing on with her trolley. Australia watched her leave and looked at the chocolate frog.

"This has been one of the weirder train rides I've ever been on," he admitted to the confectionery amphibian.

It looked sympathetically back at him from behind the wall of plastic.

"Oh! So you can hear me then? Is that because of magic?" He was honestly expecting anything to be possible in the wizarding world, so a moving piece of candy that seemed to be sentient was possible, right?

The frog gave a little "ribbet", which Australia took as a yes.

"Then it'd be cruel to eat you. I think you'd be much better as my friend, whaddya say?"

The frog ribbetted again, which was enough proof for Australia to open the packaging. the frog hopped out onto his hand, perfectly happy. "How about I name you Henry, after the lady who gave you to me?"

Henry seemed to be happy with that.

-0-

He was in Alberta, watching some kids play on an empty school playground. The sky was a perfect light blue, and the temperature only a bit too hot for his liking. The kids were young, but not too young for parents to be worried about supervising them. The oldest had to be around fourteen or so, but his numbers were too small and far away for Canada to read. He sat on a bench, watching the day go by.

He didn't know why he hadn't flashed to the next vision yet, but he didn't mind being stuck in this one. It was soothing, and there was nothing like just sitting outside on a nice day.

But it was about to change, he could feel it. He barely stood up before he flashed again, this time to _—_

 _—_ Nope, it wasn't a flash. He was waking up. Maybe that was why he could tell it was going to change, or rather, end. He groggily sat up and rubbed his eyes, feeling around the seat for wherever his glasses had fallen.

Why had he woken up?

"Oh thank Jesus you're alive."

It was Amelia. That explained it.

"Whaht's wrong?" He spotted his glasses on the carpet and slid them on.

He almost regretted doing so. Amelia looked like a train wreck, even when he was ignoring her bad attempt to modernize a 17th century dress. Her hair was matted with what he assumed to be sweat, because her face was also slick. Her cheeks were flushed, but the rest of her skin was pale.

"Maple, whaht happened?"

She gripped him by the arm and stared. Her hands were shaking. "He talked to me Mattie. To me."

"Excusez-moi?" He didn't mean to slip into French, but it just happened.

Amelia noticed. "Don't French me now, dammit! This is important! Brady talked to me."

"Ahlright, ahlright, cahlm down. Who eez Brady?"

She pulled down on her cheeks in frustration. "A normal kid from LA that I play ball with sometimes. I was dreaming, right, and I somehow managed to see him and his buddies playing catch, right?"

It took a moment for him to process her words, she was speaking so quickly. "...Right?"

"Right!" She threw her arms up into the air. "So I was just watching him and his buddies play and I say something and BRADY LOOKS AT ME AND STARTS TO TALK TO ME."

" _No need to raise your voice!_ " he whispered in alarm, glancing at Arthur. " _Just...tahke a few deep breaths._ "

"I don't want to take deep breaths. I want you to explain to me why the ever-loving fuck a kid _talked_ to me in a dream. It's supposed to be like a movie! Characters don't talk to you, and they certainly don't reply to your comments! Please...just, if you know anything, at all, just the tiniest bit of information, tell me." She ran her small fingers through her now bonnet-less hair. Canada figured it was just something she did to keep her hands moving.

But, all things aside, he didn't know how to answer her. He'd never heard of people _—_ human nonetheless _—_ responding to him or anyone else in their dreams. Sure, there were hallucinations whenever he got high with the Netherlands, but that was different entirely. "...I dahn't know."

Her face fell. "Of course you don't. Jesus H. Christ, you're useless."

"Ahmy, zhere's no need to get ahngry. I'm trying my best here," he reasoned. Her insult stung, but she'd said much, much worse to him in the several centuries they'd known each other for. He just had to keep calm and go on. "Tahlk to me. Explain every beet of your dream een detail."

She looked away from him for a while, staring at the passing green hills of Scotland rolling by. Canada wasn't sure if he saw a tear or two slide down her cheeks, but he didn't ask. He let her take her time.

"...It started in Iowa. I was...I was in a cornfield, and it was a really, really nice day. And, um, then I heard? No, I saw something laying on the ground a few feet away from me, but the corn stalks were so dense I couldn't get a clear view. Wait, no, that's not right. I didn't see the thing at first, I saw a flock of...crows? Ravens? One of the two circling something. Then I walked forward and managed to take a peek at what was on the ground."

Canada didn't exactly trust the words coming out of her mouth. It wasn't because she was a liar or anything of the sort, but because she couldn't seem to keep her facts straight. "Was eet Brahdy?"

She shook her head. "No, um, it looked like a dog? It may have been dead, I'm not really sure, but it was just lying there. I flashed to the next image before I could get a better peek."

"Whaht hahppened next?"

"The next one was..." She closed her eyes. "No, not the break up. The beach. Yes. I was on a beach in Texas, watching some kids play, and uh, the oldest one _—_ he had really black hair _—_ was throwing like, balls of wet sand at his younger siblings. And the mom was...sleeping I think?"

It didn't sound very important, but Canada wouldn't be able to tell until he had everything to reference. "Was zhere anything eelse noticeable zhere?"

She squeezed her eyes shut and drew up her face into a scrunched up one that looked like it belonged to a baby that just tried its first lemon. "The dad. He and his youngest kid buried their feet. But no one else was on the beach other than them."

"And zhen you flahshed to zhe next one?"

"Yeah." She paused.

"...This was the last one before Brady's. I was standing on top of a building in...It felt like Vermont, but it could've been New Hampshire, now that I think about it. Two teens were breaking up in the middle of a dark street, and that was it. The boy cheated on her, I think."

"Zhat's ahwful." He didn't really have anything else to say to that. It was unpleasant to watch a break up in general.

She heaved a sigh. "And then, the dream went to Brady. He was playing at the park we usually play at, in L.A. He was waiting to bat, and I said something like..."

"...Like?"

"I dunno, something like, ‘I'll be back, don't worry’. I don't remember exactly, because just...the next thing he did was just so shocking."

Canada closed his eyes. "He spahke to you, een your dreams, cahrrect?" He said it like it was an unpleasant admittance.

She just nodded.

"He...I remember now. I said, ‘I'll be back, I promise. It's just a year. Hold on, until then. Then we can play some more baseball _—_ ’ and then he interrupted me by saying, ‘You promise?’"

Amelia covered her mouth as tears spilled down her cheeks. "He knew, Mattie, _he knew_. I didn't say anything to him before I left, I promise."

He patted her leg, unsure of anything else that he could do that would seem assuring but not invasive. "Was eet Brahdy's voice?"

Her big, blue, ocean-colored eyes focused on him.

"...Yes," she whispered.

Matthew took it all in. Ravens and crows...there was a rhyme for them. Sure, usually he wouldn't look for symbolism in a dream, but it was clear this was no ordinary dream. How did the rhyme go? One for sorrow, two for mirth, three for death, four for birth? That sounded right.

"Ahmelia, cahn you tell me how mahny rahvens you saw?" he tried. Her memory was clearly not in good shape right now, but if he could just try to find something...

"What? Oh, uh..." She took a moment. "Seven. There were seven that I saw."

Merde.

Five for silver, six for gold, and seven for a secret never to be told.

-0-

"Come on old man, wake up!"

England looked up from the pier he was sitting on. The sky was heavy with grey clouds and a thick layer of dark fog covered the water below.

When the voice cut through the air, things shifted. The fog became less dense, and the sky brighter. The air smelled less like the ocean and more like...

The inside of a train.

Before he could even say what he now knew what was happening, his dreams ended. He sat upright and opened his eyes, staring at a group of multi-colored people-shaped blobs until his vision cleared.

Unfortunately, his vision didn't become clear fast enough for him to stop Olivia from poking his cheek. "I think he's alive now. What do you think?"

Yep, definitely Olivia. He swatted the space where her hand once was, like it was still there and would poke him again.

"Yes, I'm still alive. Boo-hoo," he grumbled.

"Oh. Good for you to have not kicked the bucket yet."

He didn't see who that came from. It was quiet enough to be Matthew, but his voice wasn't that feminine, and Olivia's voice wasn't that deep.

"Amelia?" It was a stretch, but Olivia and Amelia were the only two women he traveled with.

She waved, but it was a half-hearted effort. "Heya, Pops. Have a nice snooze?"

Everything coming out of her mouth sounded tired and beaten down.

What was going on?

Amelia sounded like she'd just been told that America was communist now, Olivia was fine, and Jett just had a chocolate frog sitting in his hair. Matthew was nowhere to be seen, as usual.

"Um, yes. Yes I did. What exactly am I being woken up for?"

The children looked at each other in silence. Were they keeping a secret from him?

A realization hit him in the face like a bag of bricks.

"What did you do? Did you scribble on my face?" he demanded. He zeroed in on Jett and Amelia instantly. Which of them was more likely to do this?

But both didn't look amused, but confused.

"Uh, no? Look outside man. The train's stopped." Amelia crossed her arms. "And since we don't know shit about this place, you gotta show us around so we don't get lost or whatever."

Oh. England's face reddened. He'd forgotten that while yes, they had the bodies of children, all of them were respectable adults at some point in the past (even Amelia, he conceded). Yet again, even as adults, Jett wasn't afraid to sneak a Huntsman spider onto his bed at night occasionally if he was in a certain mood, and how could England forget about Amelia and her hot dog eating contests?

He stood up and brushed his suit off. Rarely did his cousins see him without his standard military garb, but it would be unprofessional to walk into a workspace wearing it. Instead, he'd went with a simple, yet well-tailed, tweed suit. No one could refuse a good tweed suit.

"Righty then, follow me." He led the children out of the train and out to the station, where a man with long, silvery hair, half-moon glasses, and a long, crooked nose waited for them. England knew who he was on sight, even without the numbers.

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore  
110  
07071881-30061997

He was the current headmaster of Hogwarts. England held out his hand for a proper handshake, and Dumbledore accepted.

"Thank you for coming on such short notice, Mr. Kirkland," the old wizard said jovially.

England released his hand from Dumbledore's grip and smiled. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I was ecstatic to be able to teach at the UK's finest institution of magic."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled the way a kind old person's did in cartoons.

"And who are you?" He directed the question at the children standing behind England.

"These are my younger cousins and sister, all of which are of the age to learn magic and have proven to have the capability to do so. This is Olivia, my younger sister," he started, waving his hand in the direction of his pigtailed companion.

She waved shyly. "Nice to meet you, sir."

"This is Amelia and her brother Matthew, from North America. Instead of attending Ilvermorny, their parents decided it would be best if they went to school with their cousins, so they would have someone they could rely on throughout the year."

Amelia nodded at Dumbledore, and England instantly regretted allowing her to talk the moment he saw the chaotic gleam in her ocean-blue eyes. "'Sup, D-man."

Oh, he was going to lecture her later. No one in their right mind would greet their headmaster like _that_.

Matthew clearly had the same opinions, as he stared at his sister in shock. No reply, no greeting whatsoever. Just a stare.

"And I'm Jett, from 'straya! Nice to meet you, Mr. Sir!" Jett shoved England to the side and shook Dumbledore's hand himself. "I'm so excited to be here!"

England wanted to drop to the floor, curl up, close his eyes, and wake up to find this was only a dream or hallucination. Sadly, it didn't work that way. He grabbed Jett roughly by the shoulders and pushed him behind. "I am...Dumbledore, I sincerely apologize for their actions."

"I don't! This is awesome!"

He was going to wring Amelia's neck later, or so help him God. He restrained himself from just doing it there on the spot, only because Dumbledore was there.

The old headmaster's silence was uncomfortable, but he broke it with a light-hearted laugh. "They're only children, Mr. Kirkland. Let them be comfortable with who they are, for if you don't, they will never truly know themselves. Come, come, we have much to discuss."

However, they didn’t move. Dumbledore stood there, looking at the train, appearing to wait for someone. England caught on. "Are we waiting for any other teachers?"

Dumbledore gave no other physical form of confirmation other than a quick wink. "Muggle Studies. Our former professor for that position recently asked to fill the ever-empty position of Professor of Defense Against the Dark Arts, so a new professor for Muggle Studies was needed."

It made sense. England was surprised he hadn't known that there was another passenger on the train. But Olivia and Jett's reactions to the new knowledge made it all too clear they had at least seen the professor.

And then, there he was. At first glance, England would've thought him to be João, but this man was too tall and had a more mild energy to him. Olivia waved at the man and he waved back.

"Hello, Headmaster Dumbledore. It's a delight to return here." He held out his hand to the old wizard.

Dumbledore shook as firmly as he had with England. "Professor Kirkland, meet Professor Toncinens. He was a former student here, and an excellent one at that."

Color flushed Toncinens' cheeks. "Professor _—_ "

A wave of Dumbledore’s hand cut off the young teacher. "There is no need to deny the truth, Professor. Now, come. We have much to get through before tonight's supper. Children, while we are busy with documents and other boring pleasantries, you are free to explore the grounds. I only ask you not to venture into the Forbidden Forest, and to not go near the third-floor corridor on the right hand side, lest you wish to die unpleasant deaths."

England understood the good intention behind Dumbledore's warning, but he wished he'd forgotten to say it. He knew that the moment he took his eyes off of the children, the first thing they'd do was try to explore the forbidden places. They probably would survive without any major injuries, but if word got to Dumbledore, England was in a boatload of trouble.

"Right. Let's go then."

He didn't even have time to yell at Amelia in private before he was whisked away to Dumbledore's office.

-0-

Re-entering the castle for the first time in centuries felt strange. There wasn't really a word for it, at least not one in English. It was that feeling when you returned to a place you'd forgotten. The remodeling they'd done since his leave looked fantastic. The stone walls of the castle were smooth and clean, the floors were buffed and polished, and the windows had glass to prevent any mishaps.

Did Dumbledore even know he once attended this school? It had only been for a year, and it was just to test the curriculum, but even then, the standard of magic was lower than his own skills. He preferred the ancient magic, the things that were spoken by the very earth itself into his ear.

And then there was Dumbledore's office. The previous headmaster (actually, the one that had been present several centuries ago during England's time here) had used a completely different space for his office, so the location of Dumbledore's was a bit of a mind-bender. He did find the statue hiding it to be clever, though.

But dear God, the inside of the office was messier than Hong Kong's rooms. The room was large and circular, with a tall, domed ceiling. Tables, shelves, and various other types of cabinets covered almost the entire perimeter of the room and were filled to the brim with colourful and metallic knick-knacks. Some smoked, some chittered, and some moved.

England suspected most of them to be confiscated toys, but that wasn't all. Paintings of previous headmasters and teachers covered the walls above the cabinets, most of which were either asleep or missing. Some paintings even went over other ones.

And lastly, sitting atop a brilliant red coloured Persian carpet, was an enormous, claw-footed, polished wooden desk, piled high with scrolls, books, empty ink wells, and more random nonsense. Dumbledore sat in the high-backed chair on the other side of the desk, facing them.

"Please, sit." He waved his hand and two chairs pulled themselves out from the piles of toys covering them. England gladly sat down, and Toncinens followed suit.

"First of all, I'd like to formally welcome you to Hogwarts. Whether this is your first visit or a return, the castle is welcoming and ready to house you and the knowledge you have to share. Wine gum?" He held out a bowl of assorted candies. England took two, partially to be polite, but also because the gin wine gums were delicious.

"Now, let us talk about your classes. Here is a copy of the subjects that will be expected to show up on this year's N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s, organized by year. At Hogwarts, we believe in allowing the teachers a freedom when it comes to their teaching, so as long as all the subjects listed on the parchment are covered, you will have free reign over what else you cover and what you assign."

England flipped through the papers. The amount of subjects listed per year were sparse in places, and incredibly vague. All that was written for the third years was "Witch Hunts". Nothing else. He glanced at Toncinen's paper and saw a similar list.

This curriculum needed a restructuring as soon as possible. "Pardon, but is there any syllabi I can use for reference when creating this year's one for History of Magic?"

Both Toncinens and Dumbledore looked confused.

"Syllabi?" Dumbledore sounded it out as if he'd never heard the word. "I'm sorry, but I don't think Binns or any of the teachers in the past have ever bothered to write a syllabus."

Dumbledore may have just slapped England across the face, it'd have the same effect. "I-what? You must be joking. No syllabi?"

It was useless to even ask. He knew what their answer was already, and it wasn't what he wanted to hear. A brand new syllabus for seven different grades made in under a month, plus he'd need to research what textbooks he wanted to use and _—_ good heavens, just thinking about it all sounded dreadful.

"Kirkland, are you alright?"

He came out of his self-inflicted nightmare. "Uh, yes. Quite. Carry on."

"Next, the textbooks for your students have already been chosen by the previous instructor. For this year, you must have to work around it, but after this term you may assign whatever textbook to see fit. A copy of each grade's chosen instructional material will be carried to your rooms."

That was maybe a good thing? Sure, required textbooks always had their faults, but at least he wouldn't have to spend several days flipping through books trying to determine which one he'd use. Plus, worksheets and handouts existed for a reason. England nodded along.

Lastly, it'll be your duties to uphold the school code at all times. House points are to be awarded for correct answers to difficult questions, acts of charity, et cetera, and the reverse for taking them away. The more impactful the act is, the more points are to be awarded or subtracted. It’s a simple system that keeps most students in order. However, extreme acts of disobedience earn detention..."

England barely paid attention to Dumbledore's words. He knew all this already from his time here. The punishment system at Hogwarts seemed to have not changed ever so slightly. Well, a bit, because he didn't hear anything about being switched for excessive cursing. Maybe some students just made the teachers give up, or Dumbledore didn't mind.

Either way, that'd surely be a relief to several nations, himself included. He would obviously try to keep cursing to a minimum, but in some instances it slipped out.

"Professor Toncinens, dinner is waiting for you in the Great Hall. Please, excuse us." Dumbledore dismissed the young man, leaving him and England completely alone.

"Now, Arthur."

He straightened at the sound of his human name. "Yes?"

"Your younger family members are allowed to stay on school grounds until the start of the term, but since their presence was unplanned for, they'll have to stay in your quarters for the first days of your training as well as be tested for magic. No muggle could enter the magical barrier surrounding Hogwarts without falling asleep for at least a day, but they could have too little magic to be worth teaching, if you excuse my bluntness."

"No, I understand perfectly," England responded smoothly. "It was rude of me not to give warning of their arrival, and it is extremely considerate of you to let them stay for the next month. Thank you."

The headmaster's eyes twinkled like stars, bright but distant. "It's my pleasure. Before you and I leave to join Professor Toncinens at supper, mind if you gather your family and we test them for magic? The body is at its lowest magical capability when one is tired and hungry."

England seriously doubted that the children would be tired after only a few minutes of being left unattended, especially since both Matthew and Amelia took a nap on the train, but he didn't see any other reason to argue with Dumbledore. It was just a test of magical capability, which all of them had.

"I'll fetch them immediately, sir." He pushed out his chair, gathered his papers, and headed towards the door. "This won't take very long."

He climbed down the stone stairs and stepped out from behind the statue, walking the halls and scanning the outside for any proof one of the kids had been there. But to no avail, his eyes didn’t spot any of the children as he made his way down to the Hogwarts entrance.

Fine then, he'd do it the quick way. He looked around to make sure he was alone, and wandlessly cast a finding spell. Technically, it was a variant of Accio, but much more gentle on whatever was summoned.

Still, just because it was more gentle did not stop Olivia from flying straight into him and knocking him against the castle wall. Both of the English representatives fell to the ground with soft noises of pain and discomfort.

"What was that for?" Olivia stood, brushing her borrowed pink dress off. "I was looking at these tapestries on the second floor and suddenly I'm being yanked through the halls like I’m a fish being pulled from a fishing line."

He laid flat on the ground, aware that three more people would hurtle towards the spot he once stood. "Apologies, but it was the most efficient way to find you all."

On cue, Matthew and Amelia came flying in from opposite directions and collided with each other, falling into a confused heap of white linen, blonde hair, and random limbs. Jett fell from the roof right on top of them, like a cherry on a sundae.

"What the hell _—_?"

"Ouch! Motherfucker!"

"Whaht?"

England removed himself from the ground, seeing as now everyone was here. He gave a hand to Jett and pulled him off of the North American twins, who desperately tried to untangle themselves before Jett had arrived.

Matthew slipped out from underneath Amelia and stretched, likely trying to at least ease the pain from flying straight into another moving object the size of himself. Amelia laid there, complaining and cussing at anyone and anything.

Jett just stared. "Bonza! How'd you do that?"

"Bro, was that English? What the hell does 'bonza' mean?" Amelia lifted her head to stare at her cousin, presumably decided it was too much effort, and set her head back down.

"It means that whatever Artie did was bloody awesome, that's what. Am I gonna learn how to yank people anywhere I want? Because that would be super useful," Jett answered.

England shook his head. "Firstly, no, not for a while, and definitely not for something as large as a child. Second of all, Amelia, get your arse off the floor. Dumbledore's waiting."

"For what?" She lifted her torso off at least, but made no effort to stand.

He sighed heavily and yanked her to her feet by the arm. "He's doing a test to see what your capacity for magic is. He'll probably utilize some sort of magical object, so just follow his instruction and you'll be fine. Olivia, you have the bracelet, correct?"

She lifted her arm for him to see. The bracelet safely clasped around her wrist. It was such an ancient object that England was more than sure Dumbledore wouldn't recognize it. "Right then, let's head off. As soon as we're done, dinner will be ready and waiting."

That was convincing enough to get them moving. It was strange, how their current forms affected their mindset. They had the knowledge and rationale of adults, but every now and then childish instincts took over, leaving them partially defenseless against schoolyard taunts or whining when they're tired.

It was really like he'd just pulled them out of the past but gave them a few days to learn modern slang and politics, in a weird way.

England led them to Dumbledore's office, the password to which was currently "Jelly Tots". The nations followed him up the spiral staircase rather silently, perhaps because they were processing the way magic worked or violated the rules of physics.

"Headmaster, we're here," he announced, rounding the corner. The old man sat at the desk, reading something.

He looked up at the children as they entered and smiled gently. "Welcome to my office. Has Professor Kirkland told you what I wanted you here for?"

"Yeah, to test us for magic. Can I go first?" Jett was practically jumping.

"Of course." Dumbledore stepped out from behind his desk and inspected the shelves for something. His fingers hovered over several separate items, but Dumbledore eventually settled for a simple crystal mined in Finland several centuries ago. It was completely colourless and transparent, giving a look of pristine glass, but still retaining its crystalline shape.

The moment Dumbledore grabbed it, the crystal turned a deep purple. He handed it off to Jett, who gripped it as tightly as an amateur would hold a sword. His knuckles were almost white.

The crystal turned a deep, earthy green almost instantly. England raised his eyebrow in surprise. Green, what an interesting colour.

Dumbledore had a similar reaction. He watched the crystal with interest, and once it was clear that the colour was a deep green, he took it away, turning the colour back to purple.

"Who's next?"

Matthew stepped forward and opened up his palms. Unlike Jett, Matthew kept his hand open and flat, like he was holding a carrot for a horse to eat. The crystal shifted a bit between blue and purple, but eventually settled on a light shade of cornflower blue. Matthew looked uncertainly at England, probably worried by how light the colour was compared to Dumbledore's and Jett's, but England just nodded to send him a non-verbal cue that it was alright.

Dumbledore stared again, but for a lesser duration than Jett. He gently pulled the crystal from Matthew's hands and watched it reset to deep purple.

Amelia shoved her way forward. "Alright, I'll try this overrated mood stone."

She took the crystal from Dumbledore and watched the purple flare up almost immediately as a bright, deep scarlet. The colour of drying blood.

Dumbledore didn't waste his time taking the crystal away from her. Slowly, the red faded, but it was much slower than the green and light blue.

Olivia was last. She stepped forward and waited for Dumbledore to give her the crystal, which she accepted with shaking hands. The crystal nearly turned colourless, giving England a mini heart attack, but it didn't stay clear. It very, very slowly, turned to a soft blushing pink.

The fear subsided. The bracelet worked after all. England found himself smiling. "Headmaster, as you can see, they all have the capability to perform magic."

Dumbledore took the crystal from Olivia and set it back to its original place, the colour fading until it was once again clear and colourless. "It appears so. Thank you, children. Dinner is waiting for us in the Great Hall, so let's not waste any more time. The house elves always outdo themselves."

England nodded, but he wasn't listening. Green, light blue, red, and light pink. Those were the colours.

Green. Indicative of strong earth magic, specifically the ancient type. The magic of trolls, goblins, and dryads. Rarely were humans seen with that colour, and if they were, they had a high capacity for wandless magic and herbology.

Light blue. A colour that often appeared for those talented in charms and transfiguration. He would've never pegged Matthew to be a charms person. He would've expected him to be good with wandless magic, not the opposite, but magic worked in mysterious ways he still didn't quite understand.

Scarlet. The colour indicative of one talented with offensive magic and battling. Scarlet being Amelia's colour came as no surprise to England whatsoever.

Light pink. Alice's colour was a deeper pink, closer to magenta, and that was the colour of one with a great understanding of prophecy and alchemy. Olivia having a lighter version of Alice's colour made sense.

So why did he feel like the colours were wrong?

-0-

Olivia walked behind Arthur and Dumbledore, trying to keep up with their quick pace. For an old, regular human, Dumbledore was fast. She and Amelia struggled to keep up in their dresses, just like at the train station. Olivia grabbed her skirt and hiked it up to avoid falling on the folds of extra fabric, but it only did so much.

Amelia had a much harder time, since her dress was simply just much more structured and she was not used to wearing outfits so restrictive compared to her modern dress. Olivia held out her small hand to help out her cousin, but Amelia ignored it.

Fine, be bullheaded. Olivia retracted her arm and used it to hike up the other side of her skirt. Amy always bragged about being athletic, but with her country’s obsession with fast food, Olivia wouldn't be surprised if her arteries were completely solid with fat and cholesterol.

What were they called, the little snack "cakes" that Alfred had her try one time? Zebra cakes? The memory of such a disastrous, chemical-filled, disgusting "cake" was enough to make her vomit. Where were the good classic bundt, sponge, or angel food cakes?

America surely didn't know, otherwise it wouldn't settle for such, pardon her French, shit.

She gained on her brother now that she carried her skirt full time, while Amelia trailed behind. Olivia felt a bit bad for her cousin, but she could count more than enough times Amelia left her in the dust. This was simply payback.

She followed her brother, Dumbledore, and her cousins down the stairs to the Great Hall.

It really was deserving of its title. The ceiling was so realistically painted to look like the night sky that stars appeared twinkling and hundreds of candles floated above. Dozens of high-backed chairs and platters of food decorated the long wooden tables stretching across the room. A few teachers were already eating, but the number of seats taken compared to the people present was overwhelming.

The scent filling the Great Hall was amazing. The smell of fish, chips, curry, stew, peas, carrots, bread, and so much more mixed together. Her stomach growled.

Dumbledore produced his wand and converted four of the high-backed chairs into smaller ones for her and her cousins to sit at.

"Minerva, Argus, Andrew, this is Professor Kirkland and his cousins. While Professor Binns trains Arthur for the next semester of History of Magic, these four children will be staying in the castle. Although they are not assigned to any house yet, do enforce the rules of the castle upon them and give them detention if their behavior warrants it."

Dumbledore walked around the table and sat down in the very center seat. "Arthur, your seat is two to the left of Minerva."

Jett plopped himself down in one of the chairs, and the rest of his siblings followed (even Amelia, who managed to catch up somehow). Olivia nestled herself in next to Matthew and waited for further instruction. She was in no hurry to somehow mess up and look stupid in front of her future teachers. This was her chance to learn magic, she was not going to give it up.

"Please, help yourselves. Our kitchen staff love it when our staff and students enjoy their food."

Olivia overheard Amelia whispering to Matthew, "Do you think this is safe to eat? It’s British."

"I see a steak right zere, ahnd eet looks perfectly fine," Matthew replied dryly, not caring to whisper.

"Oh, cool!" Amelia's apparent worries faded and she went straight into the platter. Olivia helped herself to a good steak and kidney pie with a side of boiled carrots. The food was incredibly delicious, from the flaky crust of the pie to the rich, meaty flavour of the filling. She practically melted with happiness. This tasted like Ollie's cooking, only with less overpowering flavours.

As she made her way through the pie, she observed her future teachers, Minerva and Argus. Minerva looked as stern as Alice back in the days of the Empire, with her sharp eyes and mouth drawn into a serious expression. Her greying black hair pulled up into a neat bun, and her glasses only reminded her more of Alice, although the frame’s colours were different.

Olivia decided she liked her, especially if she was like Ally. Then there was Filch, who looked considerably less attractive and graceful than Ms. Minerva.

He had hunched shoulders like Raivis's, and a face like none other. His cheeks were sunken and veiny, his eyes were hollow, his jowls hung, and his skin was pouchy and pasty. His few remaining hairs were greasy. A massive bald spot fixed right atop his head, making it clear that his scalp was smooth and liver-spotted.

He didn't seem friendly, not from the way he kept eyeing her and her cousins. She tentatively decided to be weary of him. If he turned out to be a sweet, yet ugly, old man, she'd be open to changing her opinions.

Dinner was relatively peaceful. The best way she could put it into words was that they were all tired and just couldn't muster the energy to fool around.

Olivia felt like her cousins were so tired and unanimated because they were overwhelmed. As people unaccustomed to magic, this castle would be a sensory overload. Matthew confirmed her suspicions by the great amount of time he spent watching the sky, hugging Kumajiro tightly in his arms.

Well after the five of them ate dinner and crowded into Arthur’s room, Olivia thought of something while laying in bed.

She and her cousins would have a month of experience on the school grounds over any other first year. How much would they be able to discover without classes to fill their day?

Just from her family's determination alone, she suspected they'd have a map of the entire castle by the start of the school year.

-0-

**_Author's Note:_ **

**_Hello! Week 2 of trying for more consistent updates of "roughly once a week". Let's see how long I last, alright?_ **

**_This chapter was a bit of filler in all regards, but we're climbing towards the main events! It was super fun to do a bit of world building this chapter, introduce the Muggle Studies teacher, get Henry to join Jett's ever-growing posse of animals, and talk about just in general, magic. Hagrid's not at school because he's fetching Harry, but he'll show up soon enough. Most of the other teachers aren't there currently because they have their own lives outside of Hogwarts, but McGonagall is the Deputy Headmistress, and Filch is the security guard._ **

**_Now, time for shout-outs. As always, first off, thank you to my betas, especially the newbie to the group, Respire_Sodastone! They've been so amazing when it comes to grammar and headcanons that my day's feel brighter when they talk with my other betas(ReadtheBooks, Louie) and I about dumb story headcanons, Hetalia in general, or random stuff._ **

**_Second of all, thank you to the following commentors: The wonderful Guest on FF.net who started their review with a very bold, eye-catching "TO HOGWARTS!", twashcat, Syntax-N, and of course, the two betas who commented, ReadtheBooks and Respire_Sodastone. Every single comment makes me smile, and let me tell you, you do not want to know how many times I refresh my inbox daily, because it is embarrassing._ **

**_Third of all, just a general thank you to anyone who has shown interest in my story, whether it was a follow, kudos, or favorite. It means so much that people are taking interest in this fic, especially this late in the Hetalia fandom. My readers mean the world to me!_ **

**_Remember, you're always more than welcome to beta my story, see scrapped bits, possibly influence later side events, and more on the Hallowed Halls discord. Contact me at Fluff#0929 on Discord or those2peeps at gmail.com for more info!_ **

**_For now, I must bid you adieu until the next chapter release._ **

**_With love,_ **

_Msperfectsheep_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Reference:
> 
> Mains:  
> Amelia Elizabeth Jones: Nyo!America  
> Arthur Kirkland: England  
> Jacob Alexander "Jett" Papalya: Australia  
> Matthew Jean Williams: Canada  
> Olivia "Vee" Kirkland: 2p!Nyo!England
> 
> Other(Varies per chapter):  
> Alice "Ally" Kirkland: Nyo!England  
> João Henrique Lisboa-Carriedo: Portugal  
> Oliver "Ollie" Kirkland: 2p!England  
> Andy Toncinens: Muggle Studies teacher at Hogwarts  
> Henrietta: The Trolley Witch on the Hogwarts Express  
> Henry: The best chocolate frog to ever survive a child, friend of Jett's  
> Antonio Fernandez Carriedo: Spain  
> Raivis Galante: Latvia  
> Albus "I have a bunch of middle names" Dumbledore: Headmaster of Hogwarts  
> Minerva McGonagall: Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts  
> Argus Filch: Caretaker of Hogwarts


	6. VI

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HI I'M NOT DEAD

**_HEADLESS BODY FOUND IN LONDON SEWERS_ **   
**_by Elise Barnes_ **

**_A murder inquiry began late last night after a headless body belonging to 23-year old Wilfred Harrison was found by city workers in the sewers. Officials have stated that the man has been reported only days before by his girlfriend, who had last seen him leaving to buy a cake for their first year anniversary. He never returned home, and after a day of worry, Phoebe Hayes filed a Missing Person Report. Workers are currently searching for the head, but due to the condition of the body, forensic scientists estimate Harrison was killed via poison before being decapitated. There are currently no suspects._ **

-An excerpt from the Union Daily, Thursday, August 8th, 1991

-0-

She was laying down in soft, squishy grass soaked with muddy water. Hundreds of millions of tiny bugs buzzed above, like they usually did in this part of Florida. Every time she moved, the ground beneath her made a funny squishing noise that resembled a whoopee-cushion "fart", and the grass squelched in a mildly disgusting way.

If she were here in person, she'd be covered head to toe in bug bites, mud, and wet grass, but instead, it was all a dream. Ever since the train ride yesterday, she hadn't had any run-ins with Brady, just a normal night of visions. Cape Cod, twelve miles away from Reno, Sonoma County in California, and so many more. Most of them were peaceful, although she had been forced to witness a rather gruesome verbal fight between a tired mother and her hormone-riddled daughter.

Now, she was just laying in the grass, listening to John Mellencamp playing on the radio as a bunch of kids tried to wash their parent's car. Soap suds floated around her and through her, passing by like she was just a ghost.

As it should be.

She could feel herself flashing and sat up as the world around her changed. She was now...in a stone-bricked room, laying in a bed. She tried to concentrate and figure out where in America this was, but her internal radar was useless and said, "fuck it, figure it out yourself."

The window was wide open, the warm morning sunlight streaming through the emerald green curtains that hung by the sides.

Just a look at the floor was enough to tell her where she was, but morning drowsiness wasn't the best aid to her balance. She peeked over edge of the bed, realized this was England's room at Hogwarts, and fell off the top bunk, all within seconds.

"Ow!" She yelped, managing to fall on her arms and break her fall a bit. Still, the impact wasn't pleasant. Olivia, Jett, and Artie were out of the room already(probably because they were morning people), leaving Mattie to be the owner of the only pair of ears that heard her cries of pain.

The Canadian sat up in bed, looking around wildly even though Amelia knew he couldn't see shit without his glasses. "Whaht's going on? Kumasachi, ahre you ahlright?"

Of course he asked about that dumb bear's well-being first.

"It's me, Mattie, not Kumajiro." She rolled her eyes. "I fell off the top bunk, and it fucking hurts."

He sighed and flopped back down onto his pillow. Rude! She helped him out when he was hurt!

"Ahmy, just go bahck to sleep." He mumbled sleepily.

She stood and grabbed him by the collar of his borrowed nightshirt. "Nuh-uh, you're not falling asleep again. It's already morning, bro, and I bet that if we're not down there soon, the dining hall won't have any food for breakfast."

Saying that did the trick. If there was something Mattie liked more than sleeping in, it was a hot and fresh breakfast. Amelia could tell when he missed breakfast because he was low-energy, a wet blanket, and grouchy.

"Fine, I'm up. Give me a meenute to chahnge."

Amelia looked down at herself. She was wearing an old rugby shirt of England's, but it was honestly so much more comfortable than that ugly Puritan dress(it was older than her status as a nation!) that she was in no hurry to change. Screw social norms, she valued comfort nowadays.

She looked away as Matthew changed into his shirt and pants from yesterday, counting in her head how long he'd take, just so she could tease him if he exceeded a minute. He didn't, but it wasn't like that was the worst opportunity that she'd missed. He walked in front of her and opened the bedroom door. "Lahdies first."

She smiled cheekily. "Why, thank you ever so kindly, good sir." She bowed over-dramatically. He may have had that awful French accent, but she had the colonial age British one.

Amelia waited for him to close the door and looked around. "Oookay...Do you have any idea where we're going?" The central atrium filled with moving staircases was the only thing she remembered from their trek upstairs last night, and she had no idea where that was or what to do when they got to it.

Mattie looked as clueless as she felt. He peered around, peeping his amethyst colored eyes over Kumajiro's fur. "To ze left? I sink we cahme frahm zat way lahst night."

"Alright. If we get lost, I'm blaming you."

She could almost hear his eye roll. "We wahn't get lahst. Ziss cahstle ees mahgeec, remembair, ahnd eef he needs to, Ahrthur cahn just summahn us ahgain."

"Ugh, don't remind me. My back still hurts from that." She laughed. "Imagine if he did that with all the colonies. I don't think we could disassemble a mountain of children then."

He smiled softly and said nothing. It didn't matter that he did, because the look in his eyes was worth a dictionary full of words. While they walked, Amelia trailed her fingers on the edge of the castle. The stone was smooth, so smooth she felt almost no bumps or ridges. These walls felt like they'd been heavily sanded, but not just that, like they were as smooth as a river rock.

How old was this castle? The construction would suggest the Renaissance, but some parts looked older in areas and newer in others. It was like Rome. They kept building and building upon it, until the city was like an onion and had more layers than one would care to count.

Matthew was off in his own world, chatting with Kumajiro and stroking the bear's fur. Amelia knew that he talked to the bear whenever he was stressed, but it wasn't like Kumajiro was gonna respond. It was as effective as talking to a stuffed animal, yet Matthew always insisted that it was different. Whatever, it wasn't her bear.

"Oh my! Two children wandering the halls this early?"

Amelia stopped dead in her tracks and scanned the hallway for whoever could've said that. It was the voice belonging to a middle-aged woman, short probably, a bit heavy-set, and had a nasal edge, indicating nose shape.

No one fit that description, not even close, because no one but Matthew was with her in the hallway.

"Who said that?!" Were there any vents? Peeping holes in the wall?

The lady chuckled. It sounded like what noise a dying donkey would make when choking. "Up here, sweetheart."

Amelia looked up at the wall, expecting to see a woman poking out of some sort of vent.

Nope, it was a sentient, moving painting.

"Yes, it's me who spoke." The painting confirmed as Amelia's eyes fixed on her. "Oh dear, you look a bit pale. Have you never seen a moving painting before?"

Amelia heard Matthew stop walking, but she kept her eyes focused on the rotund woman dressed in a wine-red renaissance dress and dripping from head to toe in jewels. The painted woman's skin was darkened with age, the protective resin that once was applied to the surface of the painting having yellowed after years of wear and sunlight. Yet even with that yellow sheen covering her whole visage, Amelia could make out all of her defining features.

All she could do was focus on the small things, like the pattern of the painted woman's dress of the color of the frame. If she didn't, Amelia knew the shock of a talking, moving painting would leave her probably on the ground. It was just illogical.

Her mind ran through different excuses she could tell herself to justify the moving painting, but they all seemed weak and paper-thin. The logic behind it was that there was no logic, but every part of Amelia's being hated that. No, not hated- _rejected_.

"Dear?"

She wasn't going to talk to it. Nope.

"Come on Mattie, let's go before breakfast is cleaned up." She spun on her heel, grabbed her brother by the shirt, and dragged him away, Kumajiro and all. Matthew made a strange spluttering noise feebly, but he stopped soon enough and resigned to walking beside her. It was better than being dragged, anyways.

He glanced behind them, at the painting. "Do you sink zat wahs rude?"

"Rude? Maybe. I dunno, painting aren't supposed to move or have feelings or shit. If that blob of oil paint and old resin has a problem with me, there's nothing it can do about it." It wasn't like the painting could exit its frame...could it?

She looked behind them, just to be sure. Nope, no demon paint lady crawling out of her frame to drag them into the abyss. Still, she quickened her pace. "Hurry up, Matt! I'm hungry."

"I am too," he huffed, groaning. "But you try ahnd cahrry Kumahjeeto while runneeng. Eets naht easy."

Amelia snickered. He was saying this to the girl who could lift houses back in the day just to look for any cool stuff that was buried. "Hand him over then. I'll carry him for a bit, and you can let your noodle arms rest."

"Zey're naht noodles! You're just unusually buff fahr a cheeld." He argued as he passed over the bear.

Kumajiro seemed to be fine with the fact he was being transferred to a different human, but Amelia wasn't going to risk anything crazy when she had a polar bear cub in her arms. Even though he was small, Kumajiro could do some serious damage that she did not want to spend several days recovering from.

"Alright, got 'em nice and secure in my arms. Where do we go next, oh great navigator?" They reached a crossroads of sorts, where a hallway ran perpendicular to their own. Both sides looked identical.

"Left, I sink. See zat tahrch? Ze wood's gaht red powdair on eet."

Red powder, from what? A bad attempt at making curry? Some unfortunate kid's make-up compact? A full-blown paintball war in the hallways? She didn't expect the last one to be true, but it was fun to imagine. "Alright, red powder, creepy fat lady painting. Got it."

"She wahsn't zat creepy." Matthew's energy seemed to be slowly returning now that he didn't have to carry Kumajiro. If the bear was gonna be this much of a burden all year, Mattie was either going to have to invest in a gym membership or find some other way to tote the lazy bear around.

They came across the staircase room. Perfect. Dozens of staircases made in different styles with different materials connected and disconnected with the landings, like they were robotic arms. Amelia scanned for the landing they needed to go to.

"Down there, second to the left wall." She pointed. "That's where we need to go, if I remember correctly."

Matthew peered towards the spot she was pointing at. "Yes. Zat looks right."

"Great, we're not far. Do you think there's any pattern to these moving staircases or is it fend for yourself?"

Kumajiro wiggled out of Amelia's arms and started walking down one of the newly-connected staircases to a landing below.

"Zere's our onsair. Quick, let's fahllow heem befahre we lahse trahck of where he ees!" This time, it was Matthew dragging Amelia. He ran after the bear, faster than he'd ever usually go, and Amelia just let her legs carry her wherever he was leading. She found herself often slowing and edging around certain spots on staircases, either because they were slippery, looked suspicious, or had been confirmed as a trap by Matthew when he stepped on it beforehand.

Whoever built this school liked to mess around with personal safety, that was for sure. Building inspectors would have a field day with how many parts of this place were not up to code.

Still, they survived and made it to the end. Matthew's ankles were wobbly and covered in several red scuff marks, Kumajiro was unscathed, and Amelia was just out of breath. That was one hell of a work out, both mentally and physically. Alfred probably would be able to clear that without breaking a sweat, but she wasn't him.

"...Ready...fahr breahkfast...?" Matthew panted.

She just nodded, too winded to speak willingly. Kumajiro climbed back into her arms, and she carried him to the Dining Hall.

It looked much different during the morning. The candles suspended above were put out, and light poured in from all the windows(which by the way, were open). The head table at the end of the room had the same assortment of teachers as before, most of which were either chatting or reading papers.

Jett waved to them from his chair. "Morning! Sleep well?"

Amelia climbed into her chair and began helping herself to any food that looked distinctly not British. "I think so. My dreams were pretty regular." Her eyes followed Kumajiro as he clambered into Mattie's arms.

"That's good! It was a bit warm last night, so I ended up throwing off my covers." Vee jumped into the conversation. "The bed was really comfy though."

"It was." Matthew agreed softly. He looked at the table for a bit before finally asking, "Oleevia, do you mind pahsseeng me ze plahte of toast?"

Amelia sat back and ate her food, drowning out the meaningless chatter. It was just boring to listen to, if she was being completely honest. Arthur was chatting away with the other professors, laughing and looking well-engaged in whatever story the old lady with a bun was telling.

She wanted to talk to someone too, but not just her family. Some kid, or adult, or someone who she could just spend hours with talking about politics or the weather or sports. People like Brady, she guessed.

Damn, he was still on her mind. It was clear just from that train of thought. She shoved a strip of bacon in her mouth and concentrated on the meaty flavor, trying to do anything unnoticeable to get her mind off of her baseball partner.

So, while she drowned out her fellow nations, she listened in on the teacher's conversation. It had to be leagues more interesting, even if she wasn't supposed to reply or even listen.

"-understand that Hagrid's been here for decades, but he's not exactly the most delicate man around." The old lady said. "I've had to write over four hundred letters to Harry Potter since Saturday, and according to my sources he has yet to read a single one. Those awful muggles he's living with are preventing him from ever learning about magic."

Dumbledore wiped the corners of his mouth. "Now, Minerva, we've been over this."

"With all due respect Albus, the boy would've been better off growing up under the care of the centaurs." "Minerva", the old lady, radiated an energy that Amelia could only describe as "I'm not taking any shit from you today".

The haggard old man beside them chuckled darkly. "The boy is still a target of You-Know-Who no matter where he is." He seemed delighted by this fact, and that alone gave Amelia more than enough reason to avoid the old man.

"That's bollocks. Harry Potter is practically a national figure. The Wizarding World goes crazy whenever he's mentioned." Arthur seemed annoyed. "They'll protect him at any cost, for he's a beacon of hope for majority of them."

"That may be true, but the Wizarding World has already been fighting You-Know-Who with every resource available. Have you heard about the group of Aurors that went missing a while back? They were the cream of the crop, specially selected by the Ministry, and they died on the first day into their mission." Minerva argued.

Arthur held back a snicker with a fake cough, a maneuver Amelia knew all too well, since she'd taught him how to do it(He said he learned it beforehand, but that was a load of crap). "The Ministry hasn't been too keen on fighting You-Know-Who ever since Fudge inherited Bagnold's position as Minister. He's denied the return of You-Know-Who since the beginning of his term, and people are willing to listen and believe him because they want to think its true. It's a tactic countless politicians have used in times of fear." He lifted his teacup and drank, satisfied.

"I agree wholeheartedly." Dumbledore said simply. "The Ministry has put nearly no effort into counter measures for Voldemort's-"

Amelia jumped as Arthur began to choke on his tea. "Artie, you alright?"

He swallowed roughly and coughed a few times. "All good, thank you. I just wasn't expecting to hear His name."

Amelia shot a glare at Dumbledore. She didn't really understand why the name "Voldemort" seemed so horrifying to Arthur, but she assumed it was the same reason he didn't like to hear the names of other people who terrorized his populations.

The headmaster at least had the decency to look ashamed. "Apologies. Arthur, I am a firm believer that by giving into the fear a name is supposed to hold, it only empowers your enemy, and I therefore combat that by making it a point to say Voldemort."

Well, that was...Actually, Amelia didn't have much of an opinion on that. Did magical names give power, or was it metaphorical? If it was metaphorical, she'd have to say that Dumbledore was in the right. You can't give your enemy power by showing fear.

Still, she supposed Artie couldn't help it. A people's fear transferred to the national representative. For example, the Red Scare. Before the Cold War, she just found the Ruskies a bit unnerving and weird.

But afterwards?

Her feeling towards them could be described as a mix of a heated rivalry and pure hatred, and she was sure that it wouldn't be that way if her people didn't feel as strongly about the northern nation.

That being said, Artie having that visceral of a reaction was not good. Yet the old coot went on pretending like everything was fine and dandy. "No, its quite alright. I was simply caught off-guard. Continue, please." Artie was shaking, so no, he wasn't alright.

But apparently, none of any other teachers noticed. They went on with their dumb conversation about Harry Potter, who she'd be spending so much time with this year that she'd probably hear everything they were talking about from the subject of conversation himself.

She poked the now-cold pile of scrambled eggs on her plate with the tines of her fork. She wasn't hungry anymore.

"I'm gonna walk around, okay? If you need me, look outside." She announced to no one in particular after some time. She pushed out her chair, wiped her mouth with her nightshirt's sleeve, and walked out of the dining hall to the nearest exit.

Everything about this stupid magical castle and this stupid agreement made her feel sick.

If it weren't for Brady, she would still be in LA.

If it weren't for that stupid drop in his numbers, she would be at home with Chief, watching trashy T.V. and eating frozen pizza.

If it weren't for Alice's magic, Brady would be dead in four years.

Good grief, it was like fate was forcing her into this. Some unknown force, whether it be God, Lucifer, or something entirely different, wanted her to agree to this dumb request of England's, and she was sure that this wasn't the end.

-0-

It took her a good while to calm down from whatever made her so angry in the dining hall. Thinking back, Amelia's guess was as good as any's when it came to what made her angry, be it the fact that Arthur was lying about how he felt about the name "Voldemort" or just the idea of Harry Potter and the magical world she was being dragged into because of him.

Whatever it was, it was over now. A good, brisk walk to the castle grounds was plenty of time for her to settle her nerves, and now, she was standing on soft grass surrounded by a forest. Seeing as it was the only forest in sight, this was probably the "Forbidden Forest" Dumbledore told them about the night before.

Maybe if Amelia was with Jett or Al, she would want to venture into its depths and explore what was inside, but today, she wasn't in the mood to do it alone.

So instead, she just walked along the edge. There was nothing particularly threatening or magical about the forest from what she could see, and the amount of relief that brought her was immeasurable. A safe place away from this magic bullshit would definitely be needed.

Amelia stopped walking when she saw the lake. It was beautiful in the morning light, not at all like how it looked when they arrived yesterday afternoon. The water looked so inviting.

Fuck it, she was going for a morning swim.

She veered off course and broke into a sprint towards the lake, not caring about how cold the water was. She'd swum in California in wintertime, a lake during summer in England wouldn't be nearly as bad.

She jumped as far as she could and folded herself into a cannonball, undoubtedly making a large enough splash to disturb any waterfowl resting on the surface.

The rush, the energy, the life that the water gave her-it knocked any energy drink out of the ballpark.

Amelia kicked and broke the surface, gasping for air. The lake was much deeper than she predicted, but that was no biggie. She was a master at treading water.

She brushed the wet, curled locks of hair out of her face and smiled at no one. This was what she needed. Amelia shifted onto her back and started out with a backstroke, gently drifting across the lake while feeling the warmth of the morning sun on her skin.

"Man, Jett would kill to swim this. He's an animal when it comes to water sports, no matter if it's water-skiing or the Butterfly stroke. It's insane." She said out loud.

It felt good just to speak, even if no one was listening. Some called her habit "being a chatterbox", but she preferred thinking that she was just talking to the Earth, if there was a representative for it.

She flipped onto her stomach and dove underwater again, the front side of her body now too dry. She kicked and kicked, swimming deeper into the depths of the lake and trying to see through the murky green water.

She was probably nowhere near the bottom and would only see a fish, but still, Amelia never swam with her eyes closed.

And a good thing too, because what she saw in the water wasn't a fish.

Too bad seeing things didn't protect you from them.

-0-

"-So I use this aerosol spray to give my hair that little pouf that really accentuates my look. It's honestly a miracle spray."

Olivia was happily conversing with Jett and Matthew about the wonders of commercial products during breakfast. Seeing as there were no major events that seemed relevant or interesting to them, hair sprays made for an excellent topic of light conversation.

Matthew shook his head in disagreement. "Non. Ze true key to good hair ees ahll een ze tools. A good brush mahkes ahll ze deefference."

As if. Matthew had no idea what he was talking about, even if he'd inherited the Frog's hair. She sent a look at Jett, silently asking for back up, but he paid her no mind. "Meh. My hair's perfect after a good shower. A little rinse, some soap, and you're good to go."

...Alright, so he was even more wrong than Matthew. She was on her own. That was fine.

"How about we do this? We get our hair as dirty as possible, then try each other's methods and see what has the best results." She suggested. They'd look so good with just a little but of hairspray. Poofy hair was super stylish for a reason.

The boys shared a look. Matthew seemed to speak for the both of them when he said, "I dahn't sink ze ahrgument ees wahrth zat, ahnd besides, everyone hahs zeir own preference. Maybe we cahn test eet when we're ahll deerty frahm ceercumstahnce?"

"Yeah! And I-"

Amelia suddenly stood up, pushing back her chair and effectively interrupting Jett. "I'm gonna walk around, okay? If you need me, look outside."

She left before anyone could respond, walking out of the Great Hall faster than anyone would.

"-What was that about?" Jett dropped his previous statement for a question, clearly seeing the question as more important.

Matthew's eyes lingered on his sister. "I hahve no clue. but, eets Ahmelia, so eet's prahbahbly sahmetheeng petty she'll get ovair weetheen ze hour. I'd say we should just leave hair ahlahne ahnd let hair cool off."

"I agree. Amy just needs to be alone." Olivia took a sip of tea. "Anyways, what do you guys want to do after this?"

Jett pointed a thumb at the chocolate frog resting in his hair. "I'm gonna try to find some froggy friends for Henry. Steve's gonna help out, when he finally wakes up."

She clapped. "Oooh, exciting! What about you, Mattie?"

He shrugged, staring at no one in particular. "No idea. I may try to talk to some of the teachers, but if they're busy, I'll probably just explore."

"Exploring sounds fun! I want to see all the hidden things that are in the castle." Olivia tapped her bracelet and whispered, " _And maybe try some magic_."

His violet eyes widened, and he shot a look at Arthur to check if he'd heard. " _No way!_ You need to wait until they teach us how to use it. Otherwise, something will probably go wrong and hurt you!"

It was comical how much he was overreacting. Olivia waved off his concerns with a grin and tapped the stone on her bracelet. It was loaded to the brim with magic, and if she ran her finger over it, the stone felt warm and smooth.

"Don't worry so much! If I do use the magic, it'll be a simple spell, I promise."

"I dunno mate. I think you should listen to Mattie." Jett butted in. However, as quickly as he made a stance, he changed it. "But, it's up to you to listen to me. I can't stop you from using magic."

In other words, he was trying to look mature and agree with Matthew, but he was secretly telling her that he didn't care what she did. Perfect.

She finished her sausages quickly, gulped down her juice that was loaded with enough sugar to make America gag, and wiped her mouth. "Then I guess I'll be off then. I want as much time as possible to explore."

Matthew frowned. "Have fun." It was clear he didn't trust her not to use her magic.

"See you at lunch!" Jett smiled, scooping his chocolate frog off of his head and attempting to feed it a dead fly he found. The frog stole a cherry tomato from his plate instead.

"Bye!" Olivia pushed back her chair and ran off, heading towards the empty halls of Hogwarts that were waiting to be explored.

-0-

The first spot she wanted to check out was the Hufflepuff dormitory, which would be where she'd be hopefully staying for the semester. Only problem was that she had no idea where it was. Gryffindor and Ravenclaw had towers named after where their dormitories were located, and Slytherin was famously hidden underneath the lake near the dungeons. But Hufflepuff? They weren't very well known.

Like that was going to deter Olivia. She tightened her pigtails, pulled up her socks, and went for the next best course of action: finding the Hufflepuff ghost, the Fat Friar. Although he was also not very well known, Olivia had gotten enough tidbits over the centuries to figure out that he was a pretty nice and jovial chap.

She skipped down the halls, humming to the tune of "London Bridge is Falling Down." Every time a painting waved or smiled at her, she was sure to mirror them. It was polite, after all.

But then she started get hit from behind on the back of the head. Little hard chunks of something, rocks maybe, flew at her from above and bounced off her head.

"Ouch!" She yelped initially, whipping around to see who did it. But there was nothing in sight.

Someone thought that they could harass her because she was small and new and probably didn't know a lick about magic in their mind. Well, two could play that game.

She forced her eyes to become as large and round as possible, and pulled her lip into a tremble. "I-Is anyone there?" She even added in a shake of the knees to really sell it.

A resounding cackle echoed from far above her head. Thankfully, that was enough of a warning for her to jump out of the way as a wall sconce broke off and sent a flaming torch right at the spot where she once stood.

Right then, this wasn't a game. Olivia reached for her bracelet and held it just as Alice instructed.

_"Wrap your index and middle finger around the bead and squeeze. It'll allow you to temporarily do wandless magic, but only use it in dire situations. The method of extraction from the bead is unsafe and can disrupt the natural flow of magic in your body."_

She squeezed and felt a warmth rush from the tips of her fingers to her very core. She yelled, "IMPEDIMENTA!"

The spell for freezing one's opponent. AKA, rendering them immobile until specified.

The creepy laugh halted in its tracks, and she heard a thud right by the fallen torch. She had enough juice for one more wandless spell, maybe two if she was lucky.

"Conpareo."

An ugly, little impish man(if she were to squint, she could honestly mistake him for Northern Ireland) with wicked orange eyes, smooth blue skin, and a jarringly obnoxious orange and red jester costume was frozen before her, arms filled with small stones, chalk, and even dead beetles.

Olivia knelt down beside him and studied the creature for a moment. This had to be a ghost of some sort, but which type? She wracked her brain for Arthur's long discussions about them during the voyages they used to take across the Atlantic, but her memory failed her.

For now, she'd assume the worst.

"Ello. My name's Olivia Kirkland, but I'd prefer if you called me Vee. It seems less stuffy and formal, and honestly suits me much better. I know that you thought you could easily attack me, but not anymore, huh?"

The ghost didn't move, but she could sense he was harboring some sort of hostility towards her.

"That's alright, everyone is wrong sometimes. But I don't like it when people try to hurt me. So this is what is going to happen. You're going to promise me that you will not only never try to harm or harass me again, but that you will cooperate and follow through on any direct command I give you from hear on out. In exchange, I'll let you go. Otherwise, there's a lovely lake right outside that I'm sure you could rest at the bottom of for the next few centuries."

Olivia leaned in and whispered, "And trust me love, a century or two locked away in a dark space with no one to talk to and nowhere to move is very...uncomfortable."

She focused and pulled together the last of her excess magic together for so long that she could feel bile climbing up her throat. "Sonorous."

Her target could now speak. She waited for a response, supposing that getting used to only being able to move your mouth would take a moment.

Luckily, she didn't need to wait long.

"Tee hee hee! I see that wittle Olivia Kirky wants me to think she's not a big baby! Too bad!" He blew a raspberry in her face and disappeared, leaving behind a pile of his forgotten, unused projectiles.

Olivia huffed. She'd get him eventually. No one truly harmed her and got away with it. For now, she'd have to practice on balancing her use of magic. Even she knew that her way of casting was incredible inefficient.

"That was certainly a sight to behold, wouldn't you saw so?"

Olivia jumped to her feet and whirled around. Unlike the greasy little ghost that escaped, these two were transparent and so far, friendly. The source of the voice presumably belonged to the rotund, bald man dressed like a medieval monk, since his partner was a ghostly woman.

The transparent woman merely nodded, which appeared to be enough for the jovial man. "A first year trapping Peeves hasn't been done since 1467. Quite impressive."

Olivia know how to react to that. To assure him that she had practice at home? To blush and laugh it off? She didn't know the repercussions of her actions. Oh, Artie was going to be angry with her for something.

"Thank you?"

The fat man laughed. "It's alright, I'm proud of you. Not many students can land a spell on Peeves, let alone bind him. Fantastic spell work, young lady."

She gulped. Olivia noticed how he didn't say, "Excellent _wand_ work".

"Um, thank you, really. I was just really angry that he thought he could harass me like that, and the words kinda just...came out?" She played with her pigtails, a nervous tick that never went away no matter how much she was scolded for it.

"That's the beauty of magic. Say, I don't think I ever introduced myself. Forgive my rudeness. I am known at Hogwarts as the Fat Friar, house ghost of Hufflepuff. And my companion is the Grey Lady of Ravenclaw."

Instantly, her anxiety evaporated. She found him by chance! According to Artie, he was so friendly that some of the students called him the "Therapy Ghost", and whenever they were suffering from emotional turmoil they would find comfort in his words and presence. "I think I'm gonna be in Hufflepuff!" She chimed.

"I'm delighted to hear that! You look like a proper Hufflepuff to me."

Olivia beamed. "Thank you so much!"

So much for spending the afternoon exploring. Instead, Vee found herself in the Hogwarts kitchen, baking up a storm for fun while chatting with the Fat Friar. His friend, The Grey Lady, excused herself long before they even entered the kitchen, but that was alright. If this kind soul was looking over her year round, Olivia was more than happy about her circumstances. Plus, she was allowed into the kitchen!

Ollie would be so proud. Not even a week into her stay and she'd already made so many friends and discovered so much. And she was now determined to trap the poltergeist, Peeves.

No matter what.

-0-

Usually, when Amelia and Vee left a room, it was silent, unless one of the other Americas or Denmark were present. But to Canada's chagrin, Jett took it upon himself to make up for their absence. Now that the girls weren't present, he refused to hold back, chatting about anything that came to mind.

The current topic was ingrown toenails, and Canada was racking his brain for anything-literally _anything_ -else to talk about.

(Looking back on it, at least ingrown toenails wouldn't bring him to unknown dangers and perilous adventures, but it wasn't his fault that he thought talking about pine trees would be harmless.)

Kumahatayo sneezed, and instantly, a topic popped into Canada's head. Now, how to change topics without being rude?

"-puss came out, and of course it was bleeding, so I was definitely gonna bandage that sucker-"

Never mind, being polite was something he did always. He could afford to be rude once in a while.

"-Uh, hahve you heard ahbout ze pines?"

His hand froze halfway from delivering a spoonful of cereal to his mouth. "What?"

Okay, at least he had his attention. "Ze pines. Zey're doing really well ziss year, so uh, eets been easiair fahr me to breathe. Een fahct, ze fahrest een generahl ees just doing well." Canada had no idea where he was taking this.

"Glad to hear it, mate. Better than coughing up a lung from a really bad wildfire."

He laughed a bit, even though nothing about that comment was funny. "Yeah. Mahple, I dahn't know whaht I would do eef my fahrests caught fire."

"Call the fire department? What's the number over there again, 911?"

"Cahrrect. Mexeeco, Ahmereeca, ahnd I ahll shahre eet. Nice ahnd easy." He said noncommittally.

Jett opened his mouth to say something and stopped. Like a switch being thrown, instantly he switched topics again. Well, not entire topics, but subtopics. "Speaking of, want to go explore the forest outside today?"

"Weren't we expleecitly tahld naht to go to ze fahrest?" Canada asked. It was pointless to even voice his concerns when Jett had already made up his mind, but force of habit beat out logic.

Jett's eyes sparkled. "He said not to go there if we didn't want to die. But, I'm fast and you're good at hiding, so I say let's go for it!"

Canada winced at that. He wished he had the apparent bravado and fearlessness towards death that Jett so clearly had. It would've made a lot of things easier. "...I'll go eef we set a time leemit."

"Sure. How about right before the dinner hour, so...6 pm?"

Five hours wasn't too bad. He could do that. And even though Jett was fearless, he was also loyal. If Canada got into danger, the Aussie would surely help him out.

"Ahlright."

"Really? You mean it mate?!" He's practically shaking from excitement.

Saying no would just be cruel, especially to a face that young.

"I do. Let's hurry befahre logic and reasahn kick in, eh?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Character Reference:
> 
> Mains:  
> Amelia Elizabeth Jones: Nyo!America  
> Arthur Kirkland: England  
> Jacob Alexander "Jett" Papalya: Australia  
> Matthew Jean Williams: Canada  
> Olivia "Vee" Kirkland: 2p!Nyo!England
> 
> Other(Varies per chapter):  
> Brady Kaminski: Amelia's baseball friend from LA  
> Kumajiro(or any variation of Kuma+a random ending): Matthew's talking polar bear.  
> Albus "I have a bunch of middle names" Dumbledore: Headmaster of Hogwarts  
> Minerva McGonagall: Deputy Headmistress and Transfiguration Professor at Hogwarts  
> Chief: Amelia's German Shepherd back in LA


	7. VII

_Dearest Vee,_

_Is my most darling daughter doing well on such a fabulous day? Alice assures me that your trip to Hogwarts went well, but you know me, I like to double check things. Mostly, I just wish to hear from you in any way possible! There's nothing fun going on back home, and with you, everything's grey and lifeless. Helpless, that's how I feel without you. Everything is no longer fun. Mornings are quiet. Umbrellas are opened with no cheerful laugh or chiding that I'll get bad luck. Reading is a quiet and dull task with no one to make sudden black out poetry from a block of text. Days drone on and on and on. Even tea with Arthur would be more exciting. Really, its a shame you couldn't have waited a little bit longer to leave. Every time I walk past your bedroom, I want to believe you're still there. Return to me safe and sound, alright?_

_I love you, Cupcake._

_Ollie ♡_

-0-

There really was nothing like an adventure. Say what you want, but Australia firmly believed that exploring the world around you, the nature the Earth created, was the best pastime besides perhaps than a good swim. Of course, there was rugby, and bar hopping, and interacting with his people, but that was different. That was a public event, one where, even if unintentionally, you had to present yourself in some sort of way.

Being in the bush didn't need that.

It was just you, nature, and whatever weather that the day decided to throw at you. Back home, he was used to the flora and the fauna, but the U.K. was a different kind of beast. Flip-flopped seasons, dreary cold and grey weather always looming over the populous like the threat of death, and nature whose intentions weren't always made clear, if at all. 

Still, that didn't mean Australia preferred being inside when he was in the country. New territories, new adventures. And no one was too old for adventures. 

Not even Mattie. 

It was with a soft, accented reply that Matthew had agreed to Australia's offer to venture into the forest, and he was determined not to waste a second of it. 

Matthew was always...puzzling to Australia. As a colony, he was just the responsible, older colony from the North that rarely visited. As a nation, he was a rather unnoticeable figurehead. And as a friend, he was a meek, shy man who was either dragged into one of the America's antics by force, or left to clean up its aftermath. Australia didn't really know what Matthew liked other than maple syrup and his bear because he never mentioned it. 

That needed to change. This was the perfect opportunity, where only one of the Americas was here to give him grief, and he was in such a state where he couldn't hide behind work and duties as a nation as an excuse. 

It was the chance to get the bonding Australia never had with him. 

"Slow down! You're runneeng too fahst!" Matthew panted, trying desperately to get his pale, thin legs to run as fast as Australia's. 

They were tearing down the halls, going wherever Australia's instincts said the exit was. Paintings, tall windows, and tables of weird castle-y décor whizzed past in colorful blurs, but Australia didn't pay them any attention. The green grass outside was screaming his name and he wasn't going to keep it waiting. 

"I'm not the issue here mate, you are! You call those calves?" He laughed, leaping over the stone bannister of a staircase and nailing his drops onto the various landings below. A energized laugh forced itself out from within his chest as he eventually reached the ground floor.

It only grew in volume as he looked up to see Matthew _running_ down the stairs carrying a bear nearly as big as he was. Australia had left Steve to his own devices because, let's face it, bringing a koala into an unknown forest could lead to an unplanned game of hide and seek. But, it was quickly becoming apparent Matthew wasn't going to let his polar bear leave his side. 

"Hurry up, or else by the time we leave it'll already be Autumn!" 

"I'm trying! Cahlm down." Matthew huffed. Australia may have been a little harsh, considering that he was only a flight of stairs away, but he just couldn't quell the growing antsy feeling he had in regards to going. 

Maybe it came with being physically a kid. 

Yeah, that was it. 

Matthew eventually reached Australia, and while he was breathing a bit heavier than usual as he caught his breath, Matthew didn't look tired, just annoyed. Good, because the Aussie was just getting started. 

"Race you to the forest?" He smirked, already preparing to leave even if Matthew said no. 

But, as a pleasant surprise, Matthew just replied with, "Only when I say 'go'."

-0-

Somehow, by some unknown miracle, Canada won. 

He had never, not in a million years, expected to win in a foot race against Jett, but by sheer luck, today he did. This new—well, was it _really_ new—body was still a bit clumsy-feeling to Canada, with its thin, short limbs and decreased stamina, yet also armed an unknown amount of energy constantly buzzing through its muscles. 

Currently, the body was aching in the side from something he'd heard modern children refer to as "stitches", which were not real stitches in any way. It was just a sensation that came when you didn't breathe enough while running, and it was not one he'd missed as he passed his pre-pubescent form years back. 

Canada leaned against the rough bark of a tree, inhaling deeply with measured breaths to relieve said stitches. Jett looked like he was doing something similar, which would make sense. It had been a pretty decent run for bodies so new. 

"Whaht's my prize fahr winning?" He asked, feeling a smile tug at his lips. He doubted that Jett would give anything as a reward, but it was still a decent attempt to initiate conversation. 

Jett smirked, green eyes sparkling with mischief. "You get to pick where we explore today?" 

Canada pretended to consider this, already knowing his answer. He made a big show of it, with several soft mutterings and a bit of pacing, mostly to get back at Jett for claiming that Canada had been wasting his time earlier. 

"Ahlright. We're going...zat way." He pointed due east, almost perpendicular to the lines of trees they were at right now. There was no logic behind his pick, but that was alright. Exploring at this age rarely ever followed logic. 

Jett gave no argument, and with that, they were off. 

So far, nothing really special stood out about this forest other than the fact it hid a castle and was in Scotland. The flora and fauna were lush and green, the forest smelled like a forest, and sunlight dappled the ground in little spots as it managed to pass through the canopy of leaves above. 

Nothing really "forbidden" about it, in Canada's opinion. Just a nice trek through the woods. 

Behind him, Jett seemed to be having a blast. He touched every new plant that came across their path, grabbed sticks too tall for him and proclaimed them to be his "walking sticks" when there was no need to even have one, and brushed his hands across the trees they passed. It was a chaotic sort of energy, yes, but it was fitting for his relative. 

"Do you sink zat thiss'll just be a year-lahng thing?" 

The question came out of the blue, so much so that it took a moment for Canada to register that he'd been the one to ask it. He hadn't thought about this much, but clearly his subconscious had. 

"Honestly, I'm not sure." Jett replied, throwing his latest walking stick off into the distance after finding something wrong with it. "On one hand, Alice is the one who said one year, and she's rarely underexaggerates things. There's also the fact I can't let Jane just take care of the country for longer that that. Its unfair to her, and we both know from the World Wars how being left alone at home affected her. But, on the other hand, this is nothing to sneeze at. This kid we're protecting, Harry, will probably have a target on the back of his head as long as Voldemort is alive. Not to mention every other possible victim that could happen in-between." 

Canada nodded, processing Jett's words. Everything said was a good point. But unlike Jett, he didn't have only one counterpart supporting majority of the nation. James would probably be perfectly fine without him. Madeline and Marietta could back him if necessary. He could afford to stay longer. 

"In the end, all I know is that I won't know until we get closer to the end. Hopefully Art or Alice have some idea on how to get rid of the bloody bastard, rather than stay on defense for an entire year." 

He found himself echoing the sentiment, but not for long. Something green moved in the corner of his vision, and while he would have expected a deer or something usually, this forest had been said to be dangerous. 

His narrowed his eyes and turned his head in the general direction of the disturbance, causing Jett to do the same. For a moment, everything was still. 

Then it stood. 

A tall, imposing figure, towering over their small forms with shadows cascading from its silhouette. Beneath the impressive figure was a smaller, yet not shorter one, draped in a blanket of moss and covered in so much greenery it was impossible to tell where was plant and where was human. 

Everything in Canada's body screamed for him to run, but yet...his mind seemed to believe that this...this person wouldn't harm him. Not yet, at least. 

He cast a glance at Jett, who was normally fearless when encountering new and strange things, especially when they were alive. Yet, the nation didn't actively move towards the Moss Person either. He just closed the distance between himself and Canada. 

"Do you know who that is?" Jett whispered, keeping his eyes on the Moss Person.

No, he didn't. Nor did he know where Kumanero was. "I dahn't suppose you do?"

"Nope. Should we book it, or wait to see what it wants?"

Logically, he supposed that running was, even though it was instinctually correct, not proper when he didn't know where Kumakati was. Not to mention it would be very rude and leave a poor impression if it turned out that the Moss Person was friendly. 

But, there was always the chance of dying, and reviving was not only incredibly painful, but worse when he wasn't in Canada. And explaining why he'd died would also be annoying. 

"What do you want to do?" He mirrored Jett's question, passing the responsibility of choice as well. 

"I—"

Jett didn't get very far in his sentence before being nearly completely enveloped in greenery. The plants on the ground and hanging off the trees grew at a comically fast rate, wrapping around their limbs and sliding across their skin. 

Canada had to admit that he was a little bit freaked out, but it was less from a fear of being harmed and more a fear of the unknown. Having a gun pointed at your head was something he could understand the consequence is. But with the magic world, he was as untrained in identifying threats as a newborn. 

Well, guess it was time to start learning. 

The Moss Person moved much quicker towards them now that they were bound, and the closer it got, they easier it was to tell that, at least physically, it looking like the Moss Person was a Moss Man. Dark, flowing hair almost as black as ebony, eyes the color of ferns, and skin mottled with rotting leaves and moss. It regarded the two of them like they were wild animals that it hadn't quite decided the danger level of. 

Then, in a voice rough and quiet as rustling leaves, it said in an unknown tongue (some form of Scots-Gaelic if he had to guess), _"Land children."_

Panic rose up in Canada's chest in an instant at the quick and blunt identification, but it evaporated just as quickly. This was the magical world, and by the looks of it, this man was very well attuned to nature. Canada supposed that it would be possible for this man to identify one of his kind, as their very existence was linked to the Earth itself. 

Meanwhile, while Canada was calming himself with rationalizations, Jett was taking a different approach to reacting. 

"That's ri-Woah, wait, how did you guess that? Did you use magic to tell, because in that case Art may have a problem if someone just needs magic to know what we are. Or did these plants tell you? Are the plants magical?" 

The Moss Man's face remained impassive at Jett's childish run-ons, but it must have felt something because the plants entrapping Canada loosened enough to where, if he wanted to try escaping, he could. But, assuming that gaining answers to Jett's questions would be far more beneficial than just reacting to basic survival instincts, Canada stayed still. 

That looked like it was the right choice, for only a few moments later, the Moss Man's face softened. Its face seemed more youthful than Canada originally suspected, now looking like the face of a teen rather than a young adult, but the slight mist of the forest still had Canada feeling uncertain with his judgement. 

"Are you lost, children?" It inquired, voice strangely rough in sounds but gentle in tone. It now spoke in English, mirroring what Jett had questioned it in, accent and all. 

Matthew said "No," a split second before Jett responded with his own, "Nope! We're just exploring."

The plants dropped completely, returning to their original states as if they'd never moved on their own in their lives. Mist faded from the area, and the sunlight passing through from above seemed to intensify. The Moss...Man? Would it be proper to even call it a Man, with a face that looked young? The Moss Being's gaze only became more and more gentle and kind, and Canada was glad for not trying to run. Even if its methods were a little unorthodox, Canada suspected that it was just trying to keep them(or itself) safe. 

"This forest is very dangerous, even for the People of the Land." The Moss Being warned, "Never go in alone, and never go unarmed. Many creatures crave your power." 

"Dangerous in what ways? What creatures? Are you one of them? Who even are you?" Jett questioned, wheels in his mind clearly turning. Canada's stomach sunk with the feeling that this wasn't going to be the last time they were warned about the forest, not by a long shot. 

The Moss Being ignored his first two questions, either because they were lengthy answers or it would be dangerous to its well being to speak of such a thing. However, at least Canada got an answer for what he should call it. "I will never harm a child, human or not. I am Gille Dubh, a faerie of this forest." 

Matthew's mind instantly translated the name for its meaning, as all nations' did. "The Dark-Haired Boy." Well, that was a bit on the nose for Matthew's taste, but to each their own. Besides, faeries probably had their own naming systems. 

Jett's eyes widened in what Matthew would identify as something close to wonder. "You're a fairy, a real life magical fairy? Why are you so tall?"

Canada was appalled by Jett's bluntness, but Gille didn't seem to mind. His laugh was like his voice, rough and almost scattered, but it felt as right to the ear as hearing wind pass through a tree's leaves. "We fae are as diverse as the forest. No human is the same either." 

"Oh, I guess that makes sense," Jett agreed easily. "So, Gille, since you said this forest is dangerous and being alone is a bad idea, would you care if we just walked around with you for a little bit? You can lead us back when it starts to get dark, and we'll be safe."

And they could learn more about the magical world, from a faerie no less. 

The fae considered Jett's proposition, but it didn't take long for it to nod in approval. "If you wish. It has been a while since I have met even one of your kind." 

And that's how, somehow, Canada found himself learning from a forest faerie on the grounds of the Forbidden Forest. At least it was less exhausting than chasing after Jett's antics would have been. 

-0-

"And why do you spend...seven full semesters covering the Goblin Revolts?" England tried his best to quell the growing headache forming from creating a syllabus, but his efforts were rendered practically useless. 

Professor Binns, a ghost who had been teaching at Hogwarts since the late 1960s, was possibly one of the most boring ghosts England had ever interacted with. With a low, droning voice and a tendency to repeat the word, "Um", the Nation actively had to try to stay focused when holding a conversation. 

"Because, um, the Goblin, um, Revolts are crucial to understanding the, um, racial politics within the, um, Wizarding World." 

With a sigh, England wrote "Racial Politics of Wizarding World" on his notepad, detailed with everything that he deemed important enough to be covered when teaching. Of course, to satisfy the ghost, he'd have to include what it deemed to be important as well, and currently that was only a few names of historical figures and racial politics, specifically those involving Goblins. 

Binns hummed with satisfaction as he looked over the list. "This is quite an, um, impressive roster, you have. Um, do you think you will be, um, able to cover it all?"

England blinked, confused if they were even looking at the same paper. There were only six things written on the notepad, three of which were things Binns told him to add. "...Impressive? How much content do you think this adds up to?"

He studied the paper intensely, and after a minute or two, said "Seven years." 

England fought the urge to sigh heavily, nodding politely instead. He supposed there was no point in furthering this discussion, which honestly was a bit of a relief. More freedom to add subjects as he saw fit, and the freedom to go at his own pace. 

Before, he would've been slightly overwhelmed at the prospect of determining what to teach and what to leave out, but now he was just glad to not listen about Goblins for the umpteenth time. 

"Thank you, Professor Binns. You've been very...insightful. I'll be sure to incorporate what I've learned from our discussion into my syllabus." 

There. That was adequately worded enough, yet technically didn't lie about what exactly he was taking away from their conversation. Alice would have been proud. 

Binns looked satisfied as well. "Um, well, if you need any more, um, of my, um, help, you know where to, um, find me." 

England didn't actually, but he didn't see this particular fact as anything worth mentioning. Instead, he simply nodded and watched as the old man's ghost passed through the stone floor. 

Now that he was alone, he could properly get to work. Dipping his quill into the ink pot(Oh, how he missed this feeling), he started drafting a basic timeline of the most important events he could recall off the top of his head. 

Magic History started long before the founding of Hogwarts, but for the purpose of the exam, everything that came before would only count for 5, maybe 10 percent of the final exam. So he could do a basic run down of the most important magical discoveries of that era, maybe one or two historical figures. He'd have to decide based on the questions from past exams focused on this time period. 

Next was the founding of Hogwarts, and their first years until the eventual passing of the founding members. Most of the children would know the basics after their first year, but he would be allowed to go in depth behind the effects of the Founders' decision, the importance of learning institutions, and the speculated reasoning and motivation behind their actions. 

Following that would be the Middle Ages era, nicknamed "The Dark Ages" by Petrarch due to his hatred of his own time period for its lack of "quality literature". However, modern day, "Dark Ages" didn't even refer to Petrarch's time period but the one before, so England would be avoiding using that particular term for a lack of confusion. Here, he would start introducing more of the Muggle World politics and history, as with the growth of the European magic community also came the growth of European Muggle society. 

The Late Middle Ages would lead into the beginning of the Age of Exploration and Renaissance, where now England would be fully blending Muggle and Magic histories to show a full picture of how they affected one another. This is also where he'd have to start being careful about phrasing, as Amelia and Matthew would most likely start to have memories of what he was talking about. Of course, being as impartial as possible was what he'd strive to have no matter what, but especially from this point onwards. He couldn't risk angering one of them on the chance they'd quit and leave the deal. 

The Protestant Reformation, Elizabethan Era, and Jacobian Era would all go into one section as well, where he'd have a strong enough base formed in Muggle history to go into why exactly those events were so important as to have an entire era named after them. 

Afterwards would be the Enlightenment, and England was all too eager to have his students read some of the most provocative and thoughtful pieces of that time. Maybe he'd even hold a few in-class discussions of what those documents meant, and why they were so important at that time. And of course, the beginning of the unraveling of European Colonial Empires. 

He pulled away his quill, not wanting to blot the paper. The damn revolutions. He knew how important they were historically, and that he'd need to cover them, but it still stung. Telling an entire school of children exactly how he descended from power in detail, covering exactly what decisions he'd foolishly made that lead to his collapse. 

Right, back to syllabus drafting. He needed to get over himself now, or else he'd never be able to teach everything from the 1770s onwards. 

Following the Enlightenment was the Modern Era and Industrial Revolution. He'd need to cover Napoleon, that egotistical Corsican-French bastard. He'd also need to go over the Victorian Era, the leading up to the First World War, and why the magical community rejected the modern amenities of the Muggle World. 

Then would be how exactly America was able to screw the world over with his Stock Market crash through the Great Depression, the rise of Nazism and Gellert Grindelwald, and the Second World War, where everything went to hell in a handbasket. 

Then they could finish with America and Russia's pissing match over nuclear arms, the rise of You-Know-Who, and how Harry Potter unintentionally became a symbol of hope across the English Wizarding community. He hoped the boy wouldn't mind, but it was important to study. 

England looked over his timeline, pleased with himself. Excluding the Pre-Founding period, which would be roughly two to three weeks of content by England's estimation, he had the basic outline of what needed to be covered over the year. As the classes increased by age, he'd go more in-depth with certain topics or discussions, but he couldn't skip anything other than apparently Goblin Rebellions due to Binns not leaving anything else as a base. 

For not having any experience with syllabus drafting or teaching, England felt he'd done a fairly good job so far. And in the weeks leading up to the eventual start of the semester, he would complete his outline and gather all the materials for his class. 

Speaking of, he needed to write a letter to Alice for supplies. Of course, this would only be for what he currently deemed necessary, but it would be foolish not to gather things if they were available. 

Grabbing a new sheet of parchment, England began his letter. 

_Dear Alice and Oliver,_

_Alice, I hope this letter finds you both in good health. I am writing to you currently to ask for the purchasing and deliverance of the following supplies. If anything listed cannot be found or acquired, please let me know at the soonest possible date so I can find a solution._

_I currently require:_

_\- Three ink pots, two in black and one in red_

_\- Three maps, one of England, one of Europe, and one of the World_

_\- A copy of the following books: World History: An Exploration by Leon K. Willis, More than a Monarchy by Francesca Rios, Magic and What Makes It by Toddle the Scholarly, Grindelwald and the Alliance: A Rise to Power by Marianna Powell, An In-Depth Exploration of Europe Eighth Edition by Krebs Publishing, and my diaries. _

_\- A box of my favorite tea_

_I trust in your ability to deliver. As for you, Oliver, please do try to behave._

_With Love,_

_Arthur_

He signed his name with a flourish, folded the parchment, and set it aside to be sealed later. If he was feeling particular, he'd use a wax seal, but for the sake of convenience would most likely just use a paper envelope. 

The letter didn't need any of the standard frivolities, as both Alice and Oliver were pragmatic when it came to demands. And who was he to complain? Less time, less ink, and less parchment wasted. Besides, he could save all of the fancy wording and extravagance for his students in order to earn respect. 

Then he'd scare the shit out of them when he exposed how the killing curse was one of the most merciful ways one could die, and how the Muggle World was far more than "simple" and "harmless". 

Ending with that pleasant thought, England stood and gathered his papers and supplies. At breakfast, he'd been asked by Dumbledore to visit his office for a meeting regarding something of confidentiality. England suspected it was just paperwork to cover the legal aspect of his position, but he wouldn't truly know until he met with the man himself. 

He walked through Hogwart's halls, his footsteps echoing off the walls in that satisfying way that only long, tall corridors could replicate. Bright sunlight streamed in from the tall windows facing the surrounding forests, and the paintings on the wall moved around lazily, basking in the sun like fat cats. 

"Morning, Sir Gawain, Miss Kiare." He nodded at two of the paintings who he'd befriended when he last attended. 

Gawain bowed in his usual knightly manner. "Good Morning to you, Sir England."

Kiare waved cheerfully. "My, how you've grown! You look so handsome." 

He smirked at the compliment, feeling pleased. "Well of course I do, I'm me. But Gawain, Kiare, please call me Arthur from now on. My students will not be told of my true identity, and so I expect everyone here to respect that." 

"Well, I'd be honored to follow such a request from a gentleman such as yourself! I will spread this information to all who would possibly make this mistake, and personally insure no incidents occur." Gawain stood straight, painted eyes dancing with renewed vigor from being given a task. 

England nodded. "Thank you. I appreciate it sincerely." 

The two of them nodded before disappeared between the painting frames, obviously now on a quest to spread his message. It was something England had figured he should cover at some point or another for security reasons, but he hadn't planned on exactly how or when to ask. The opportunity simply presented itself, and he took it. 

He continued his walk to the new Headmaster's Office, said the password, and climbed the spiraling staircase to meet with Dumbledore. Said man was sitting at his desk, reading some paper as England entered. 

"Professor Kirkland, you have excellent timing." He said with a chuckle, sliding away the papers. 

England took a seat from across the desk, folding his hands across his lap. "I do try, Headmaster. You said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes, I did. Tell me, Professor, have you ever heard of the Philosopher's Stone?"

This was not going in the direction of non-disclosure and safety agreements. Slowly, England nodded. "I have. A stone said to grant its user immortality against the flow of time, but not disease or injury. Is that correct?"

"Not to mention it transmutes lead to gold, but yes." Dumbledore verified. "This year, Hogwarts will be responsible for the protection of the Stone. My sources have lead me to believe that a possible heist is being planned, and that Gringott's security may be breached." 

Something heavy settled in England's stomach. Anyone who sought immortality was a greedy, dangerous, desperate individual. And they were too egotistical to realize how much of a curse it really was. 

"Headmaster, why exactly am I being told this?"

Dumbledore bridged his fingers and met England's eye. "I have asked each professor to create their own verification test for an extra few layers of security. It has to be solvable for the Stone's eventual return to its vault, but hard enough that if there were to be an intruder, we could subdue them before they manage to retrieve the Stone." 

"And you're asking me to come up with my own test, is that right?" England sighed. 

"Yes. You have until the week of the Stone's scheduled retrieval." 

He raised an eyebrow. "And when exactly is that?"

Dumbledore only smiled. "I will only let you know if its overdue, for security purposes. But I trust in your ability to be on time, as so conveniently illustrated today." 

England resisted the urge to simultaneously laugh and roll his eyes. Instead, he just settled for a neutral nod. "I won't disappoint. Now, is there anything else you would like to discuss with me today?"

Only then came out the non-disclosure and safety agreements, and England settled into an hour or two of reading over and signing documents with the company of one of the most accomplished mortal magicians of his time. 

-0-

"Dude, Bush, pal," The tall, bright figure of America trailed after the current US President like an excited Golden Retriever puppy. "I've gotta talk to you bro. The craziest thing happened at the last World Meeting and you've gotta hear the story because, dude, it's seriously gonna the funniest thing you've ever heard." 

The president only sighed, resigning himself to listening to the nation's story. Resistance had been proven to be futile after America knocked down the Oval Office's doors to announce the results of the 1989 Super Bowl. 

"Alright, America, tell me. What happened?" He walked into his office and took a seat at his desk while America paced animatedly across the room, gesturing wildly. 

"Okay, so, it started with that commie bastard Russia—you know Russia, right? Tall, bear-like, big nose? Anyways, yeah, so, Russia was talkin' to China about some Communist shit, and I was like Dude, not cool, so I went up to them and totally amazed them into silence with my awesomeness. And everything was all hunky dory and shit until Belarus tried to stab me, which is like, totally not okay." 

Bush pulled out some of his paperwork and started going through the stacks. "Mhm." 

"I know right?! So I dodged the knife because like, duh, and Russia took that as an opportunity to try to hit me with a pipe, because he's really grouchy that the USSR is totally falling apart, and so I dodged that too because lemme tell you, that pipe hurts like a motherfucker. Anyways, they ended up fighting each other, which was already pretty fucking hilarious because I'm pretty sure Russia's scared of Belarus, and everything's starting to go back to normal other than the weird fact that China was trying to set up another Chinatown, but the suddenly, Poland comes out of nowhere carrying Canada like he's a trophy or something, and he's just full on starts a riot by throwing Mattie across the room into Ghana." 

"Uh-huh." Bush pushed up his reading glasses and continued with his paperwork. 

"So then Mattie tries to get up and disappear into the riot like he usu—" The nation paused as if he were in a recording, frozen in speech and action. Bush looked up from his paperwork in mild concern, but only a moment later, America resumed as if nothing had happened. "—ally does, but James is a pretty hard guy to miss, so that completely failed. And so then, James just goes up to Poland and punches him, and the crowd goes wild, and dude, it was just so awesome." 

"James? Don't you mean Matthew?" He'd been paying attention, if only slightly. 

America paused, then started to laugh. "Matthew? I've never even heard of a Matthew—Wait, no, it's that one Canada representative who never shows up for anything unless the other three are dying in a ditch or something. I've met him like once? Twice, tops. But naw dude, I'm talking about Jamie Boy."

Bush just shrugged and went back to his paperwork as America continued his story. The "Mattie" from before must have been just a slip of the tongue. 

-0-

Jane was starting to regret pushing Jett to go on his year-long magical adventure. 

Sure, she didn't _really_ regret it, because he needed a break every now and again, but the weight of his responsibilities on top of her own mixed with memories of how she was left for years to deal with paperwork while he was on the front lines in World War One and Two left Jane feeling sick at the mere idea that this was going to last for twelve months. 

There were the micronations, from Gary to sickly little Lu, and all of them deserved her attention even if they didn't believe so. But there was also her people, and how she had to watch over them and make sure that they stayed united. And then there was her government, which she needed to take care of because it was a core part of what was keeping her alive. 

There was just so, so much, and Jane was so, so overwhelmed. 

Currently, she was in the kitchen, drawing with markers with Rory and Lance while Erika played with wooden blocks, giggling with delight whenever she knocked over her own towers. 

"Janie, Janie, look!" Lance held up his paper, showing a drawing of a red ball with a slew of different stick figures on its edge. "This is us on Mars! You're here, and I'm here, and Bruce is there, and Bumby is there, and Gary and Leslie are there holding hands, and Rory is back on Earth because he was too mean to come on the rocket. And Jett and Lu are back home too, because Lu was too sick to come. But that's okay, because Jett's there to make sure she's okay, and I'll make sure to bring her lots and lots of Mars rocks."

She set down her own marker, and looked the micronation in the eyes. "Lance, even if Rory is mean sometimes, we'll never leave him behind because that's not nice. How would you feel if we left you home alone while everyone else got to go on a trip?" 

"Really sad. And angry. But mostly sad." He admitted. "You think Rory would feel that way too?"

Rory looked up from his own drawing and scoffed. "You act as if I'm not right here." 

"Well? Would you?" 

The blonde boy scowled, looking away. "...Yes."

"Oh. Well then I'm sorry. I was mean." Lance hastily added another stick figure, then drew some money bags by its feet. "There you go, you're on Mars now."

Rory huffed and went back to his drawing, but Jane knew he was pleased in his own Rory-ish way. "What are you going to draw next, Lance?"

"Space." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, grabbing another sheet of paper and starting with the sun(which had sunglasses and a smile, per usual). 

Jane glanced at Lance's paper which was a very well drawn version of the 100 dollar bill, and at her own drawing, which was of a Jabiru she'd seen the other day. It was good for what resources she had, and she was proud of how she'd made no glaring mistakes with the markers. 

But the picture was done, and she took it as a sign that she couldn't stall any longer due to some twisted form of pride. She needed help, and she was going to get it one way or another. 

So naturally, she called New Zealand. 

The first to answer was Zack, who, from the sound of it, was in the middle of cooking dinner. _"'Ello?"_

"Hello, this is Jane. Are any of you available at the moment?" 

She heard something clatter in the background, but there was no shouting so it was probably just Erika's blocks. 

_"Oh, Janie, how are you? Huihana's out back watering the plants right now, and Neal's on a trip to the South Island, but Avery's available if you'd like."_

Jane nodded, even though she subconsciously knew he couldn't see it. "Yes, that would be great. And I'm doing well, by the way. Thank you for asking."

_"No worries! Here, let me hand the phone over to Avery. I'll talk to you later!"_

There was some static as the phone was passed around. _"Jane, how nice of you to call!"_

She barked a laugh. "Nice. Yeah, well, about that."

_"What's wrong?"_ All the humor drained out of Avery's voice, leaving only concern. _"Did something happen to one of the Micros?"_

"Well, yes and no. Basically, Jett had to go on a trip and left me to deal with everything for a year. And I can't ask Kirra and Ngarra for help because it's not their burden, so I figured I just needed to talk to someone who would reassure me everything's fine."

 _"And that someone's me, right?"_ Avery asked. 

Jane picked up the phone and carried it as far as she could so she could sit on the couch and talk. "The first person I thought of. So, do you mind if I talk your ear off for an hour?" 

_"You have until dinner's served, which knowing Zack, will probably be after you're done. So go for it."_

"Alright. Here goes nothing." 

And so she talked about how Jett was asked by Arthur to go on some year-long trip he didn't give her the details about, how she'd insisted he go even though she knew how much she hated being home alone from when she'd been forced to in the past, why she was overwhelmed every time she thought about everything that she'd have to do in the coming year to keep Australia running smoothly. How she was worried about Lu, and that she was concerned the Micronation was swiftly approaching Death's door. 

How she hated herself for even wanting to have Jett come back in the first place, and how she felt weak for even thinking such a thing. 

By the end, she was near tears, the sun was setting, and all the kids had assembled in the kitchen to make dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner in the oven. 

"So, um, yeah, that's why I decided to call you out of the blue." Jane hiccup-laughed, wiping a tear from her eye. "Sorry." 

_"No, no, it's alright. You obviously needed to talk about this to someone, and I'm more than happy to listen. But Jane, you've got to remember that you'll get through this. You were chosen to be Australia's Figurehead for a reason."_

She blinked. "...What? No, Jett's the Figurehead." 

Avery snickered. _"Jett being a Figurehead, good one! I can totally imagine it for some reason, and that makes it so much worse. But in all seriousness, Janie, you can do it. You survived colonialism, you survived Gallipoli, and you survived taking care of several Micronations. You can do anything, as far as I'm aware."_

She was never at Gallipoli. Jett was. 

A chill crept up Jane's spine, and she nearly dropped the receiver as a realization came to her. This was a side effect of the magic Alice mentioned. 

She was going to have to pretend(or was she actually now the Figurehead?) to be Australia's Figurehead for a month. 

_"Jane?"_

She fumbled for the receiver and hastily said, "Sorry, Erika just spilled something. I've gotta go, but we'll chat later, okay?"

_"Okay. Take care."_

"You too." Jane hung up, heart racing. Did the kids also think she was the figurehead? Was that why Jett was left behind in Lance's drawing? 

"You don't look so good." Gary said, walking into the room with a plate of chicken nuggets. Leslie followed him like a shadow, holding an identical plate. 

Jane just sighed, letting exhaustion hand over her like a cloud. "It's okay. Everything's going to be okay."

She hoped she wasn't lying. 

-0-

James Williams was, in his own opinion, a busy man. While Canada as a nation wasn't usually the center of attention in world news, it was still the second largest country on Earth, and that meant he had to keep up appearances. Run things behind the scenes with the other nations with PM Mulroney running everything public. It was a good dynamic, and one he was well-acquainted with after decades of experience.

So then why was "Call Matthew about latest World Meeting" on his calendar?

Matthew, his brother of sorts, was the least politically involved out of all of them. The nation barely said a peep, rarely showed up for events, and never did anything of any value unless Madeline physically dragged him out of his home.

James couldn't think of any reason to call him other than to maybe wish him a Happy Holidays and Canada Day once a year, and definitely no reason to ask about the latest World Meeting. He wasn't sure if Matthew had even _been_ to a World Meeting.

Still, it was on his calendar for a reason.

He flipped through his contacts book, trying to find Matthew's phone number from when he'd originally gotten it. Surprisingly, it was near the front, and starred.

Odd, but maybe that was Alfred's handiwork. He wouldn't put it past his southern counterpart. James put the number into his desk phone and waited.

He was redirected to voicemail after listening to an eternity of ringing, where his brother's quiet voice said, _"Hello, this is Matthew Williams. I'm sorry I missed your call, but I will be sure to return it as soon as possible. Thank you for calling me."_

He waited for the dial tone. "Hey, Matthew, I'm sorry for calling you out of the blue. I know politics aren't your thing, but for some reason my calendar said the ask you about the latest World Meeting. I probably meant to write Matias and was too tired to fix it, but in case I was actually supposed to call you, please call me back when you can. Thanks."

He ended the call, crossed "Call Matthew about latest World Meeting" off his calendar, and resumed his work.

Being the Figurehead wasn't an easy task, after all. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *crashes through window*  
> *does a somersault on landing*  
> *stands and bows*  
> GUESS WHO DIDN'T FORGET THIS FIC EXISTED
> 
> Hi everyone! I'm really, really sorry for dropping off the face of the Earth for the past...few? Couple? months. I caught a really nasty version of mono and I'm still not fully recovered, but thankfully my brain is operating enough nowadays that I could finish the extra 4k words this chapter was missing. 
> 
> Thank you to everyone who commented, left a kudos, or bookmarked my work. I am so happy that you were able to get enjoyment out of this dumb idea of mine, and I can only hope that I'll continue to do so as I complete this story. 
> 
> As always, if you'd like to talk to me, you can contact me at those2peeps@gmail.com or via discord at Fluff#0929. I'm always looking for more betas or just people who will chat with me at ungodly hours about story plans and ideas. 
> 
> Once again, thank you all so much, and have a lovely day. (And if you liked this chapter, please consider leaving a comment, even if it's just emojis or incomprehensible keyspamming. They fuel me.)
> 
> Toodles,
> 
> Msperfectsheep
> 
> -0-
> 
> Mains:  
> Amelia Elizabeth Jones: Nyo!America  
> Arthur Kirkland: England  
> Jacob Alexander "Jett" Papalya: Australia  
> Matthew Jean Williams: Canada  
> Olivia "Vee" Kirkland: 2p!Nyo!England
> 
> Other(Varies per chapter):  
> Alice "Ally" Kirkland: Nyo!England  
> Jane Papalya: Nyo!Australia  
> Madeline Williams: Nyo!Canada  
> Marietta Williams: 2p!Nyo!Canada  
> Bumby: Bumbunga  
> Lucy "Lu" Papalya: Aeterna Lucina  
> Gary and Leslie Papalya: Gay and Lesbian Kingdom  
> Erika Papalya: Aerican Empire  
> Lance Papalya: Empire of Atlantium  
> Rory Papalya: Grand Duchy of Avram  
> Bruce Papalya: Independent State of Rainbow Creek  
> Ngarra: 2p!Australia  
> Kirra: 2p!Nyo!Australia  
> Steve "Stevie": Jett's Koala  
> Kumajiro: Matthew's Polar Bear Cub  
> Oliver "Ollie" Kirkland: 2p!England  
> James Williams: 2p!Canada  
> Alfred "Al" Jones: America  
> Gille Dubh: A forest faerie found in the Forgotten Forest  
> Cuthbert Binns: A Ghostly former Professor at Hogwarts. Used to teach The History of Magic  
> Sir Gawain: A painted knight from the legend of King Arthur  
> Kiare: A painted woman whose origins are unknown  
> Albus Dumbledore: Hogwart's Headmaster  
> George H.W. Bush: The current president of the United States as of when the story takes place(1991)  
> Zachary "Zack" Smith: New Zealand  
> Alicia "Avery" Smith: Nyo!New Zealand  
> Neal Smith: 2p!New Zealand  
> Huihana Smith: 2p!Nyo!New Zealand  
> PM Mulroney: Prime Minister Mulroney, the current Canadian Prime Minister at the time in which this fic is set.  
> Matias Kohler: Denmark


End file.
